


Slowing Your Roll

by keelywolfe



Series: Slowing Your Roll [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14399442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: It would have been easier for Edge to bear if there had been someone to blame.There were any number of reasons that Edge and Red were currently stuck in Underswap. Fate, bad timing, the maliciousness of the universe...shitty luck. All of them and none of them were reason enough and really, it wouldn't have been so bad if Edge could stand his counterpart, Stretch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, I love this pairing, and I just wanted to see more of it. I've never written fan created characters before and I pray I'm not stepping on any toes and that people will enjoy. Also, who isn't a sucker for the stuck in a cabin trope? I know I am!
> 
> Thank you!

* * *

It would have been easier for Edge to bear if there had been someone to blame.

Fate, perhaps, for him choosing to join his brother on this particular visit to Underswap, but possibly fate was on his side this once because if the machine had to break down, it was better that he was here with Red than spending the week knowing his brother was trapped in the other 'Verse while they made repairs. With or without frequent texts or phone calls, Edge was self-aware enough to admit he would have been out of his mind with worry in hours, let alone days. 

He _could_ blame the creators of the machine for their shoddy workmanship. Not that Edge had more than a rudimentary understanding of its mechanics, although from what he could interpret from Stretch and Red's scientific exchanges, his assumption was not incorrect. In this case, at least, both of them seemed confident they'd have repairs made within the week; it was only a matter of waiting for the parts that Undyne was machining for them. 

But the fates, unknown creators, even the universe in general were not able targets for Edge's frustrations. 

Stretch on the other hand.

It wasn't that Edge necessarily _disliked_ his counterpart…

No. He did. Stretch was all the worst parts of his brother packaged into a monster with his own face, and always, always with that knowing smirk, as if he were hiding secrets behind his lazy eye lights. 

Blue was a secret, guilty pleasure to visit, his brother as he could have been had the fates been kinder—

_(and sometimes Edge wondered if Red knew that and that was why he brought Edge here, to let him bask in the presence of his not-brother and he didn't know who he hated more for it, his brother or himself)_

\--and he was an excellent host besides. If he'd been anything less than delighted by unexpected guests, he'd never shown it. He'd commandeering his brother's room for Edge and Red, after a thoroughly cleaning it, and bustling Stretch out of it to sleep with him in his room. 

Not once had Stretch so much lifted a finger to assist his brother and just watching the lazy bastard smoking on the sofa while Blue worked tirelessly was _grating_. 

Stretch and Red had already done what they little they could with the machine for now. That left the four of them here, days later, and Edge's limited patience was beginning to wear paper-thin. _(papyrus-thin, Edge thought, and Red would have cackled himself silly if he could have tolerated saying it aloud)_ It was the evening of the fourth day when the tensions finally came to a head.

Red was sleeping, of course. The little brat could sleep anywhere and was cheerfully proving it by sprawling out on the back of the sofa like a cat, arms and legs dangling on either side while he snored peacefully. 

Stretch likely had the same skill; stars knew he was usually asleep when Edge and Red usually came to visit, still drowsy-eyed and his voice slurred whenever he wandered downstairs to greet them. For some reason, this week he'd been stubbornly awake, watching with shadowed eye lights as Blue chatted easily with Edge, about puzzles and recipes, and whatever nonsense came to his constantly turning mind. 

It was soothing in its own way. Blue didn't seem to expect much of a response and Edge could simply let his sweetness wash over him and accept it, guiltily but greedily. Less soothing was Stretch interjecting his foolish comments and puns, _(pasta tacos? dunno, bro, that sounds like a_ recipe _for disaster…)_ ruining what could have been an easy camaraderie with his idiocy. 

And besides, the spaghetti tacos had been _delicious_. 

Blue had insisted on cleaning up after dinner, humming to himself as he washed dishes in their small kitchen. Unfortunately, that left Edge alone with Stretch and his own uselessly sleeping brother, the careful buffer of chatter that Blue provided notable in its absence. 

Edge glared at his counterpart, who was watching him in turn, chin propped on one hand and in the other he twirled a silver lighter, rolling it over his knuckles like one might a coin. 

The splash of water and the soft clink of plates reminded Edge that Blue was, once again, taking on all the duties of housekeeping. Even Red was capable of being occasionally helpful and the fact that Stretch hadn't bothered even in front of guests spoke of how often he offered to help. Which was to say, never. 

"Considering that your brother cooked dinner, perhaps you'd care to be at least briefly useful and wash the dishes for him."

"nah," Stretch said easily. He shifted to lounge against the arm of the sofa, propping one foot against Red's shoulder, "washing dishes is kinda _draining_ for me." 

"Papy!" Came the outcry from the kitchen. Edge only ground his teeth. 

"if you're that worried about it, you do it," Stretch said, archly, "you ate, too."

Blue called out again, "Edge and Red are guests!" 

"bro, i think once you've claimed a spot on the sofa, you lose guest privileges," he nudged at Red with his toes and though it was a gentle nudge, Red snarled sleepily, swatting at him with sharp claws that Stretch narrowly managed to yank his foot away from. 

"the threat of bodily harm isn't doing much for me, either," Stretch added dryly.

"Then perhaps you should stop inviting it," Edge sniped and the lazy humor in Stretch's expression tightened. 

"oh, i don't know," Stretch said, slow and deliberate, "i bet _you_ see that kind of invitation everywhere."

"Around you? They are practically engraved," Edge growled, "I would delight in showing you."

Orange flared in one of Stretch's sockets, "you—"

"Papyrus!" Sharply, and both of them jerked towards the sound of their name. Blue stood in the kitchen doorway, drying his hands on a towel. The impatient sound he made was so low, so small, that Edge wasn't entirely sure he'd actually heard it, "Brother," Blue said, softer, "Why don't you and Edge go on a quick patrol of the outer forest? Make sure all the puzzles are properly calibrated." 

" _me??_ "

"You expect _him_ to—"

"Yes, you, and I _expect_ that the two of you can manage. It'll do both of you some good to get out of the house." Edge could hear the undercurrent of frustration in the smaller monster's voice and that more than anything proved that Blue had to be on the last vestiges of his patience.

If Blue wanted his brother out of the house so that he could gain a brief moment of peace, then the least Edge could do was as he asked. 

Stretch seemed to come to the same conclusion. He exhaled loudly, breath hissing out from between his teeth. "fine." 

He shuffled to his feet, stuffing them into his shoes, and the laces trailed behind him as he made his way to a low table. Rifling through the drawer, he drew out a stack of post-it notes, of the exact kind that trailed away from a sock sitting on the floor. Blue and Edge both watched in confusion as Stretch scrawled something on the note before handing it to his brother.

"if he brings me back in a jar, i want you to sprinkle me over that."

Blue sighed in exasperation, flipping the note over so that Edge could see Stretch had written in his messy handwriting, 'i told you so'. "That isn't funny, Papy."

"yeah? so why are you smiling, squirt?" Because he was, blue eye lights shining even with his brother's dark humor. Stretch grinned back at him, reaching out to rub his knuckles gently over his brother's skull. It faded away as he turned back to Edge, shifting to cool disinterest. 

"well? let's get this over with."

"After you," Edge gritted out, hardly afraid of Stretch but still unwilling to have him at his back.

Stretch only shrugged and made his way to the door.

"don't lose that note," he called to Blue. Edge ignored that and followed him outside to see what else the fates had in store for him this week. 

Whatever it was, it was likely to be unpleasant; there wasn't much reason for that to change at this point in his life.

* * *

His intent to have Stretch walking in front of him had faded away before they'd even gotten out of Snowdin. The other skeleton walked at a pace that would have put him in last place in a snail race and Edge gave in to impatience and stormed ahead of him, leaving Stretch to trail behind. 

For all his malingering, Stretch was still always behind Edge whenever he looked. Edge suspected he was simply shortcutting whenever Edge drew far enough away and while Stretch wasn't willing to hurry his stride, neither did he seem eager to allow Edge to wander through Underswap alone. 

Blue's puzzles were easy enough to calibrate and intriguing enough to catch Edge's interest. He took his time examining them, ignoring Stretch's impatient huffs as he made mental notes of questions to ask Blue when they returned. He had a talent, to be sure; none of his puzzles were deadly and instead aimed for capture, a much more difficult design to perfect. 

At last they made their way over a bridge, a puzzle of its own as the bars were too wide to keep anything out so what was the point? Beyond it was nothing but emptiness and trees, surrounded in snow, and Edge trudged through the drifts to the cavern wall, looking up through the lightly falling snow at the endless rock that presumably rose all to the cave ceiling.

"What is the point in patrolling through here," Edge grumbled.

"was that a rhetorical question?" Came from behind him. There was a click of a lighter and the sharp burning scent of a freshly lit cigarette invaded his personal space.

"Keep away from me with that," Edge turned around to snarl. 

Stretch was still several paces behind him and he flicked his lighter closed with a sharp snap, "i'm nowhere near you, asshole."

"If I can see your face, you're too close!"

That cool expression Stretch had worn for close to a week tightened into true anger before Stretch smothered it, closing it off in his usual indifference. He took a long drag off his cigarette, offering Edge an upraised middle finger before blowing a perfect smoke ring right into his face.

Rage was immediate and fiery; Edge's eye ignited with his magic, crimson sparking between his fingers and in that moment, he could _feel_ murder in his soul, could hear strange rumbling in the back of his mind and…

…Stretch had dropped his cigarette, his sockets going wide but he wasn't looking at Edge--

That low rumbling rose, shaking even the ground, and Edge looked up to see snow that had built up on the craggy cavern walls was crashing down towards them. Whether the vibrations of their arguing had loosened it or fate was simply making another attempt on Edge's life, he couldn't guess. 

Say what he would about stamina, Stretch was _fast_ when he needed to be, much the same way that Red was. Before Edge could even take a step back, Stretch had already flickered into being next to him, grabbing his arm and the pulling sensation of abrupt teleportation had Edge gagging into the snow where they'd landed meters away from the avalanche, vomiting dark red spatters of his own magic to spread over the cold white.

"sorry, sorry, i know, it's always better when you can get a walking start," Stretch didn't try to touch him. At least he _sounded_ genuinely apologetic.

"It's fine," Edge rasped, eyeing the former clearing where they'd been standing. With his HP, that amount of snow and ice wouldn't have killed him. Probably. Digging himself out would have been particularly unpleasant. He ignored the fact that Stretch likely wouldn't have survived as useless speculation. They _had_ survived and that was the end of it.

Fat flakes of snow were pattering against Edge's skull and he blinked upward, eye sockets narrowing. The snow was starting to fall harder and Edge frowned, concern rising. Long experience told him a blizzard was rolling in. Weather underground was highly unpredictable; too many magical beings crammed into too-small an area and the concentration of it could bring nasty results. 

"We need to get back to Snowdin," Edge said, resigned to another bout of nausea.

"uh, yeah," Stretch rubbed the back of cervical vertebrate awkwardly. "unless you feel like walking, it's going to be a little bit. i'm running on fumes right now."

Edge bit back a comment about stamina. Shortcuts were not a skill he had but as far as he knew, they didn't take _that_ much effort. Except Stretch had been recklessly shortcutting after him their entire patrol and his last teleport had been one of panic; he'd probably used great deal more magic than was necessary. 

He sighed and held a tight rein on his irritation; Stretch had at the very least saved him some pain, if not his life. He could offer him the kindness of not berating him for his carelessness this once. "Then we need to get out of this weather until you've had a little time to rest."

"that I can help with. c'mon."

He followed Stretch back to the trail, the heavy fall of snow obscuring his vision. "And why are we walking away from Snowdin?" 

Stretch snorted. "can you at least trust me enough to know that i don’t want to die in a snow bank?"

"That I trust; your sense of direction is another question."

"is that answer enough?" He pointed ahead of them and Edge squinted through the snow. An outline of something like a cabin was looming out of the storm and the two of them trudged on through the snowdrifts towards it. 

The door was unlocked and Stretch went inside with an easy carelessness that had Edge grimacing, fingers cramping in a spasm of instinctive magic. There was nothing inside to warrant his wariness, no hidden ambush. Not here, not in Underswap, and yet. Such inattentiveness was not something Edge wished to grow accustomed. 

"a while back a couple of sentries got caught out on the edge of town when a blizzard like this one hit," Stretch explained, not seeming to notice Edge's caution. He shuffled through the darkness and there was the clatter of him bumping into something, a low curse hissed beneath his breath. "they were okay but it was pretty damn close, so we put up this shelter just in case something like this happened again."

Stretch flicked his lighter and lit a lamp on a small table. The light carried into the shadowy corners, revealing a single room with a low bed and a bare table alongside two rickety chairs. A row of shelves was against one wall showcasing a meager selection of canned goods and dust was layered thickly over everything. 

Edge looked around distastefully. "If keeping it stocked is part of your duties, your pay should be docked."

"thanks, please fill out a comment card and you can file it under i don't give a fuck," Stretch said shortly. "it's here and it's out of the snow. you'll have to excuse missing the turn down service with a chocolate on the pillow."

With that, he sat on the edge of the narrow mattress, slouching back to prop his shoulders against the wall.

Dim light was still seeping through the windows and Edge peered out at the storm. "It may be out of the storm but that lamp isn't much of a heat source." The cabin was easily as cold as the outside had been.

"slow your roll, it won't need to be," Stretch lit another cigarette, the tip glowing cherry-red as he took a long drag. "just give me an hour to recharge and we'll be out of here. i'm thinking another hour in my company isn't enough to kill you."

"It may kill you," Edge muttered. He snatched the cigarette away and ground it out beneath his boot.

Stretch sighed, "hey, those things are expensive, fuck you very much."

"Then quitting should help your finances."

The minutes seemed to tick by endlessly. Through the window Edge could see nothing but flurries of white and the glow of the lamp was occasionally punctuated by his own crimson magic, glinting from his fingers as his uneasiness rose. 

"would you sit down and chill?" Stretch finally groaned. He chuckled under his breath, likely at his own stupid pun. 

"There is nothing to do in here," Edge hissed, agitated. Nothing to distract his mind and never had he missed Blue's idle chatter so much. 

Stretch didn't seem willing to risk another precious cigarette to Edge's wrath, absently flicking open his lighter and clicking it shut. And again. Murder was starting to look less like an option and more a foregone conclusion. Edge was busily contemplating the best way to make it look like an accident and so he almost missed it when Stretch offered, "we could fuck."

"We could—" Edge repeated blankly, then stopped. "You could not have possibly said what I think I just heard."

Stretch shrugged. "we could. i've got nothing better to do and you've got _no one_ better to do." He offered Edge a slow smirk, the faint glint of an orange tongue grazing his teeth. "c'mon, i know you want to."

Edge took a stumbling step back, sputtering out, "I want no such thing!"

"your mouth says no, no, no, but the lightshow at your crotch says yes, yes, yes," Stretch mocked.

Edge resisted the automatic urge to look down. It wasn't true and even if it was, his magic had been growing more erratic with his irritation. That could only be another manifestation of it and nothing at all what Stretch was implying. 

Stretch shifted to sprawl back on the bed and a cloud of dust rose up. Edge wrinkled his nose in distaste at the filth. Stretch didn't seem to notice it, drawing up his legs and letting his knees fall lewdly apart. "i'd even let you top. now is your perfect chance to fuck me up. literally."

"The way you say that makes me think you actually believe somehow _that's_ what will tempt me." 

"hey, don't say i didn't offer," Stretch shrugged. The seduction seeped out of him, leaving sleepiness in its wake. He rolled over to lay on his front, ignoring Edge entirely and pillowed his head on his arms. In moments he was asleep and of course, _of course_ that fucker would want to sleep now.

His boots seemed loud against the wooden floor as Edge shifted his weight uncomfortably, eye lights drawn to where Stretch was sleeping. Unlike Red, his breathing was quiet, his shoulders rising slightly with slow, even breaths. Sleep had stolen his indifference, his expression open and relaxed. He looked younger in sleep and he'd looked young enough to begin with. None of the stresses or torments of a Fell world beaten into him, the only marks on his skull were cranial sutures. 

On the rare occasion that Red allowed it, he liked to have his sutures scratched and would lean into Edge's sharp fingertips like a particularly bony puppy. Edge wondered distantly if Stretch liked the same thing or would be prefer a gentler touch—

No.

Inwardly, Edge cursed, striding over to sit in one of the rickety chairs. He cursed the fates for their fickle humor, the universe for leading him here, and Stretch in particular for putting these….thoughts…into his mind. 

He was wrong, for one thing, Edge didn't want to, he'd never even thought about it. Even in his most distant of fantasies the only dreams he'd had of Stretch were of wrapping his fingers around his cervical vertebrae. He'd never—he didn't want—

His eye lights strayed without his permission, back to where Stretch was laying on the thin mattress. 

Prickly, irritating Stretch, with his bad habits and his smoky breath, Stretch, who disliked him, who Edge couldn't stand, Stretch… 

_we could fuck_

…who hid Stars knew what secrets behind his eye lights, obnoxious and lazy and… 

_now is your perfect chance to fuck me up_

Slowly, Edge stood, walking over to bed on silent feet. Stretch's long legs were still sprawled apart, far enough that Edge could put a knee between them and he did, the bed creaking as he moved almost mindlessly to kneel on the mattress. The hem of Stretch's sweatshirt was riding up, exposing the clean, white bones of his spine. Edge traced the ridges slowly upward with long phalanges, the scrape of bone against bone a low hiss in the quiet of the room. Beneath his fingertips, Stretch shifted, a subtle arch into his touch. 

"change your mind, did you?" He turned his head to blink sleepily up at Edge. 

"Yes," Edge husked out, admitting it. 

"s'cool," Stretch mumbled, burying his face back into his folded arms. "you get to do all the work."

"I expected nothing else."

Despite his words, Stretch shifted enough to allow Edge to ease his track pants down to his knees. He wore nothing beneath them, his pelvis unmarked and so utterly _bare_. Edge pushed up the sweatshirt, exposing more bone though he left it on, enough chill in the room to make nudity uncomfortable.

Already Stretch's magic was congealing at his pubic arch, a formless cloud of bright orange and Edge ran his fingers through it coaxingly, smirking at the low whimper that came from above. 

"feels nice," Stretch sighed, spreading his femurs obscenely wide, only to be hobbled by the fabric binding his knees.

"You look like a filthy slut," Edge growled out, running a hand down those strong, white bones.

"that's not nice, i know a lot of sluts and they are perfectly clean people."

Edge ignored that, ignored everything but the slender body under him. He would be damned as a liar if he tried to claim Stretch wasn't attractive; he was, almost _pretty_ and was it narcissistic to be attracted to someone who looked so much like himself? 

Like himself and yet not, Stretch was _pure_ in a way that Edge could never remembering being, clean, smooth bones, nearly sheened a pearly white. Nothing like his own, scarred and pitted, broken and healed and rebroken, and everything about Edge screamed a warning, a threat against trespass. Stretch was his mirror, his opposite, nearly begging to be touched, and now that Edge had allowed himself, he was helpless to stop.

A slick entrance formed beneath his stroking fingers and Edge pressed one inside testing. Stretch choked, shuddering, whimpering out, "c'mon, hurry up, it's cold, fuck, _come on_."

"You feel warm enough to me," Edge whispered. He pulled his finger slowly out, taking his time unbuckling his belt. Beneath him, Stretch was writhing, hips shifting as he pleaded shamelessly, and Edge watched avidly as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. Stroking himself briefly with fingers still slick with Stretch's juices and lined up. Rubbed the tip against him just to hear those soft, sweet cries as Stretch arched up uselessly, trying to catch enough of him to slide him inside.

Edge pushed up on his hands, taking a moment to look down at Stretch beneath him. His sweatshirt was shoved up beneath his arms, exposing the sleek whiteness of his ribs and the strong line of his arched spine, lifting his hips up against Edge, and all of him flushed a faint orange with his magic. With desire. 

It was enough. Edge caught him by the iliac crest, stilled his desperate shifting as he pressed inside with one hard thrust. He gasped, groaning out, "Ah…! Tight, you…fuck!"

Stretch wailed beneath him, throwing his head back and one hand flailed back to grip Edge's jacket. In pleading, in protest, Edge didn't know and didn't care. He slid a hand beneath Stretch and lifted, dragging him up to his knees. It shifted the angle and he slid in deeper, bottoming out in the hot clench of the cunt surrounding him. 

Stunned at the sensation, Edge sucked in a sharp breath of cold air, tasting their magic in it, heady and thick, and he almost came right then. He grabbed onto the frayed ends of his control with a sharp mental grip, holding with tight desperation.

Breathy laughter came from beneath him, Stretch twisting back to look at him with glittery amusement, "you okay back there?"

"Worry about yourself," Edge growled. He cupped the back of Stretch's skull in his palm, pressing down until he was facedown again in the sheets, ignoring his startled protests. Protests that faded as Edge finally moved, starting a vicious rhythm. His hips jerked with every hard thrust, dragging Stretch back into each one as Edge pounded into him, grinding into him and, fuck, Stretch was _exquisitely_ tight and spasming around him. 

He shoved Stretch down harder, tilting his hips up to meet his force, and dimly realized Stretch was lax beneath him, sagging into the mattress and dragging against the sheets, every sound out of him was little more than a breathy whimper.

Edge hesitated, slowing, and Stretch's eye sockets flew open, "no! don'…don' stop," he slurred out, "'s good, don' stop…" It was enough and Edge increased his pace, the bedframe banging loudly against the wall as he fucked into Stretch with all his strength. 

"You pretty, fucking, bastard," Edge ground out, narrowing his sockets but not closing them because he was, damn it all, Stretch _was_ , glowing with magic, writhing weakly beneath him, and sweet whimpers hissing from between his teeth. Fucking gorgeous, and pleasure was hazing his vision, his thrusts going jerky too fast, it was too much. 

He fumbled a hand beneath Stretch and was dimly surprised to find the hardness of a cock instead of a clit, but not so much that he couldn't grip it, stroking hard, once, twice and that was enough. Stretch choked out a moan, his cunt tightening around Edge in a sweet, hot clench as he came. 

Edge rode him through it, gritting his teeth against a shout of ecstasy as he pushed in deep a final time and held, spilling hotly into Stretch. Good, it was _so good_ , too good, only his grip was keeping the other skeleton on his knees and his orgasm was as bright as blow, shocking in its intensity and fuck, it felt like it would never _stop_ until it did, leaving him empty and shaking, sagging down on Stretch. 

Edge shifted back quickly, hissing at the chill as he pulled out of that wet heat, quickly buckling his pants again over his fading magic. The bed was too narrow for him to sprawl next to Stretch and Edge settled for sitting back on his heels, still panting, and fuck that had been… _why_ had that been…

Stretch was still quivering against the sheets, reduced to a trembling mess, Edge noted, satisfaction swelling in his soul; he was splattered with orange and red fluids, his femurs still spread wide and his cunt still formed. As he watched, a dribble of red slid down the slit, puddling on the sheet. 

"Filthy slut," Edge murmured, reaching out and running a finger through the red smears of his own magic. Stretch flinched, then relaxed, letting him gently stroke. 

"okay, this time I'm ready to concede the point," Stretch mumbled, "that was fun but it didn't really help get me ready to shortcut us out of here."

He twitched away from Edge's fingers, rolling to his side and dragging his pants up before curling into a ball, legs against his chest. Edge narrowed his eyes, noting the tremor that shook him. "You're cold."

"uh, yeah, we're in a rickety cabin in the woods in snowdin during a storm. cold pretty much comes with the territory." One eye socket slit open. "could say we're chilled—

"Don't!"

\--to the bone."

With a snarl, Edge yanked at the blanket, pulling it out from under Stretch and ignoring his yelp of protest. Roughly, he shoved the other skeleton, moving him until Edge could spoon up behind him and spread the blanket over them both.

All protest stopped immediately and Stretch squirmed back against him as though he could meld them into one. "mmm, you're warm," he groaned. 

"Go to sleep," Edge told him. "You need rest."

"can you say that again so i can record it? our bro's are never going to believe me without proof."

"Sleep," Edge repeated, and with only the briefest of hesitation, he gave in to a last impulse, stroking his fingertips lightly over Stretch's cranial sutures. As predicted, Stretch melted against him, humming out a soft sigh of pleasure as he drifted off. Edge remained awake, staring out into the dim light as he gently stroked the other and very pointedly did not think. 

end part 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They survived the storm and it's time to get back to their brothers. Surely that'll be the easy part; brothers never antagonize each other just because they can.

* * *

Just outside the barrier of the blanket, it was cold. Edge noticed it without really opening his sockets, burying himself and the body next to him deeper into the voluminous folds. In his arms, the other monster squirmed and Edge tightened his hold, resisting their attempt to pull away and automatically pulled slender hips back against his own.

“whoa, there, champ, i wouldn’t mind going another round but it’s fucking freezing.”

The voice registered as familiar but something about it…Edge opened his eye sockets to find Stretch's face an inch from his own.

The sound he made was at a high enough register to be embarrassing later. He shoved Stretch back automatically and sent him flailing over the edge of the narrow bed to land on the floor with a solid thump and a yelp.

"fucking ow!" Reluctantly, Edge peered over to see Stretch glaring up at him from the floor, rubbing the back of his skull. "geez, rude much? what’s your problem?”

"My apologies," Edge said stiffly. Automatically, he scanned the room, noting the low burning lamp and the empty, shadowy corners. The windows were dark, the heavily falling snow barely visible through them, a sure sign that they had slept far longer than the hour the Stretch had needed to recharge. Edge pushed away the blanket, suppressing a shudder at the cold. He was already quietly seething at himself for falling asleep to begin with. Anyone could have come in from the storm looking for shelter and neither of them had been on guard. 

Stretch didn't seem to be in much of a forgiving mood. "do me a favor. in the future, try to remember that i'm a delicate fucking snowflake and not throw me on the floor?"

"I already apologized!" Edge snarled, torn between irritation with Stretch and himself, because Stretch wasn't wrong. His HP was low enough that even a little damage could be dangerous for him. Edge knew that, he knew it because Red was the same way, and he'd spent most of his life hyperaware of his brother's fragility. 

It was one of the greatest ironies in the multiple universes that the ones with the lowest HP were the ones whose smart mouths were most likely to get them hurt. The urge to Check Stretch was prickling at Edge; if it had been Red he'd already have done it…

He gave in and Checked. Despite his earlier dour humor, Edge really did not want to return Blue's brother to him in a jar. If he noticed, Stretch didn't comment. Edge's concern was moot; his HP wasn't even nicked. Edge blew out a long breath, slow and steady. His nerves were simply…well. On edge. From unexpectedly falling asleep to being trapped in this little shelter to begin with and Stretch—without thinking, Edge glanced down at Stretch's hips, concealed beneath his track pants but the memory of how they'd looked was creeping back in, the _sounds_ he'd made. 

Nothing like his irritated voice now, "yeah, well, when my tailbone stops hurting you'll be the first to know," Stretch frowned at the window, noticing the darkness. "shit, we need to get back. our bros are going to be freaking out."

"Are you all right to teleport?"

Stretch gave him an odd look. "uh, yeah, we've been here for hours. c'mon." He held out a hand and it hovered between them, untaken. Slowly, he raised a brow bone, "i can't see how this is a revelation, but you need to touch me for this to work."

"I know," Edge ground out. He took a deep breath, another, Stars, he hated teleporting. Even with Red. Giving over that much control to someone else was against his very nature. But he'd done much more difficult things in his life than simply taking Stretch's hand. With an effort, he grabbed that outstretched hand, forcibly lightening his grasp when Stretch winced. 

"easy," Stretch soothed. His finger bones were cold but his grip was firm. "just walk with me." He pulled Edge along, pausing to put out the lamp, and then they were out the door and into the swirling snow. "just keep walking, yeah? ten, nine, eight, seven—"

On six, Edge felt the hard pull yanking him through time/space.

He barely saw the Gyftmas lights of the Swap brothers' porch glowing before he doubled up, gagging. 

"easy, there." Stretch crouched next to him, hovering anxiously.

"Don't touch me." Edge spat into the snow, staggering upright. Yet another unkindness of the Fates given to him, that a monster without a proper digestive tract was still capable of nausea. 

"that how it is, lover?" Stretch smirked at him, cocking his hips. "whatever you want."

"Don't…!" Edge could feel crimson flaring in his eyesocket. "Don’t you _dare_. If you tell them I—that we--"

"whoa, calm down." Stretch took a step back and raised both hands, placating, "i'm not going to say anything, all right? i'll behave." He blew out a loud breath, "to begin with, if your bro finds out, neither of us will ever hear the end of it." 

Snow was dusting over his hoodie and Stretch shivered, rubbing his arms. "if you're not going to die or puke, can we please go in?"

His magic seemed to have settled. Edge nodded curtly, gesturing for Stretch to walk in front of him. With an exaggerated roll of his eye lights, he did, slogging through the rising snowdrifts to the door. It took him a moment to kick the piling snow out of the way enough to pull it open but the wave of warmth that flooded out at them was enough of an enticement that Edge crowded against Stretch's back to get inside quicker.

They'd barely closed the door when a blue blur flung itself at Stretch's legs. He staggered back a step, dropping down to one knee to pull his brother into an embrace.

"Papy!" Blue cried, almost a sob, as he caught his brother in a fierce hug. "I was so worried!" 

"hey, pipsqueak, ease up so i can breathe," Stretch managed, though he didn't attempt to pull away. "we're okay, just a little frosty around the _edges_."

Blue didn't even attempt to scold him, only offered a watery chuckle, "And I was the one who sent you out there!"

"bro, we're fine, promise," Stretch soothed him, petting his skull with gentle fingertips. "it's just a little storm, nothing we couldn't handle."

He gave Edge a slanted look and Edge nodded slightly. Not a word about the avalanche, message received. 

Turning from the pair, Edge saw that Red was watching the television. He barely glanced at Edge, only the slightest flicker of his eye lights in Edge's direction, and said nothing. 

Ah. 

He'd been _very_ worried, then.

Edge took a moment to kick off his snowy boots, lining them up neatly on the door mat. Padded on silent feet to step behind his brother and lightly touched the back of his cervical vertebra, just above the collar. He followed it up to the back of his skull and rubbed against it lightly with his knuckles. Undoubtedly, no one else would be able to see the tension easing out of him and Edge took advantage of the rare moment to run his fingertips over his brother's skull. 

Red allowed it and for a brief moment he pushed hard into Edge's touch before he twisted away, tipping his head back to smirk up at him. "guess i owe the blueberry 5g. neither of you are in a jar."

Edge arched a brow bone down at him. "You bet on whether he'd kill me?"

"nah, boss, figured you'd dust yourself after that much time with the honey bun."

"wow, really loving standing around listening to you guys discuss my impending murder," Stretch grumbled. He kicked off his own shoes, leaving them in a wet, untidy pile on the mat that had his brother tutting aloud. 

"murder-suicide," Red corrected, "so what happened to ya?"

Stretch stifled a yawn, nudging his shoes with his toes until they were almost next to Edge's boots. "we got caught in the storm and ended up staying in the shelter at the edge of the forest."

It was Red's turn to raise a brow bone. "an' you didn't just teleport back cause…?"

Stretch gave him a lazy smile, " 'cause i'd been teleporting after the dictator over there for the whole hour before that. he was marching along like we were going into battle."

"It was probably the best workout you've had in months," Edge said, unthinking, well used to antagonizing Stretch only now it sounded…wrong. His face heated and Edge glanced away, his gaze dropping to the floor and catching on Stretch's bare feet. The bones all but glowed white against the darker carpet, clean and unbroken, _pure_.

"yeah, it was quite a workout, all right," Stretch said. Not a hint of innuendo, utterly innocent. Except for the brief look Stretch sent his way, sockets half closed. 

"I'm sure the exercise was good for you, Papy," Blue declared. His innocence was just that, innocent, and only Edge noticed Stretch's smirk widening. 

"bet it was, bro. really a great workout."

Red snorted, "whatever. getting caught in a storm sounds more like a _sticky situation_ , honey bun."

Blue might be willing to forgive his brother's humor due to extenuating circumstances but Edge was less forgiving considering the most dangerous thing his own brother had done the past few days was walking around with untied shoes. He gave him a firm rap on the back of the head with a pointed knuckle. "Stop."

Stretch only chuckled, raising his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders with a wince. Edge pointedly did not look at the raised hem of his sweatshirt. "keep up with that and i'll think you're flirting."

"aw, who says i'm not?" Red purred, eye lights glinting, "sugar puff, marmalade toast, strawberry waffle—"

"now you're just making me hungry."

Edge flicked Red sharply on the back of the skull, again, "Please spare me your attempts at seduction."

"Oh, if you're hungry, I could make you something, Papy," Blue said, still anxious, his eye lights bright and hopeful.

"nah, bro, just gonna head up to bed," he waved a vague hand at the Fell brothers, "please, feel free to keep discussing my murder without me."

He blinked out without another word, leaving Blue standing alone, twisting his hands anxiously. "Did you want something, Edge? Some hot tea or cocoa? You must still be so cold."

Despite his impromptu nap, Edge felt exhaustion pulling at him. Teleporting had always been draining for him. "No, thank you, Blue. I believe I'll go to bed as well."

"i'll look after him, blueberry," Red clambered to his feet and stretched. "make sure he doesn't rattle his bones too much."

"I suppose a good night's sleep is best for everyone," Blue sighed. "Sleep well!"

Edge nodded and made his way upstairs the more traditional way, his brother at his heels.

* * *

"so how was he?"

Red was sitting on their shared mattress. He was already in a pair of borrowed shorts and a t-shirt, both with bright, cheery stars emblazoned on them and the shirt declaring 'Smile, you're a star!' was somewhat incongruous when paired with his sharpened teeth. 

"I have no idea what you mean," Edge said coolly. His clothing was still damp from the snow and he was carefully hanging it to allow it to dry properly. His sleeping clothes were his own, taken from his inventory and if Red ever bothered to use his own, he wouldn't be stuck verging on adorable for the night. Edge had already taken several pictures of him as he'd slept for future blackmail purposes. 

"yeah, right, boss," There was a dark glint to his eye lights that definitely did not match his pajamas. "to begin with, you smell like you stuck your dick in a vat of sweet and sour sauce. never thought you'd be into fucking the honey bun."

Edge abandoned his efforts and caught Red by the front of his borrowed shirt, hauling him up to wobble unsteadily on his toes, his feet barely scraping the floor. They were socket to socket as Edge ground out, low, "Be. Quiet."

Red only gave him a sharp-edged grin, "oh, he was _good_ , wasn't he."

With an impatient sound, Edge roughly dropped his brother back to the mattress. "We've been here too long if you aren't properly afraid of me anymore."

"i've never been scared of you, bro," Red said, too softly. 

Edge went very still, "Never say that in Underfell."

"not stupid, boss. mostly." Red gave an exaggerated yawn, sprawling out on the mattress. "welp, i'm exhausted. you must be tired too, boss. i mean, you got quite a workout earlier, right?"

"Red--"

"all that exercise would wear out anyone…"

" _Sans—_ "

"g'night, bro."

In minutes he was snoring, taking up three-quarters of the mattress. There was no one around to see Edge draw the blanket up over him, gently covering his small form. Instead of joining him, Edge took a book out of his inventory and settled to sit next to the mattress. His book was already open in his lap and he was halfway through a page before he reached out and very lightly stroked Red's coronal sutures with the sharpened tips of his fingers. His brother sighed in his sleep, pushed in closer to him, and slumbered on.

* * *

"So how was he?"

"la la la la la, i can't hear you," Stretch chanted, hands held uselessly over the sides of his skull. He was sprawled out on the futon his brother had made up for him, blankets piled messily around him.

"Brother," Blue chided. He was already dressed in his sleeping clothes, a plain blue t-shirt and shorts that Red had decidedly not seen. He was still bartering with Edge for a picture of Red in the other pajamas and couldn't risk tipping his hand. "If you didn't want me to ask, you should have showered before you came home."

"we were half-frozen when we came home, where the fuck was i supposed to take a shower?"

"Language," Blue tutted, before offering a sly smile. "I'm sure I don't know but since you smell like you fell out of a salsa bottle, I'll assume it was worth it?"

"bro…" Stretch groaned, burying his face in his pillow. His words were muffled, "no one would believe me if i told them what a little pervert you are."

"Lies," Blue said promptly, eyes going wide and sweetly innocent. "Now spill, how was he?"

"to begin with, i'm lying down because i don't think i can sit," Stretch winced, "i'm pretty sure i can taste fucking sriracha and i didn't even have a chance to suck him off."

Blue hummed, considering, "A shame you missed the opportunity. Well, I'm sure you'll find a way." 

Stretch lifted his face out of his pillows enough to glare at his little brother, "i know that tone and you can stop right now. you helped enough." He let his eye lights go wide and starry, simpering out, "You two should go on patrol together. It'll be good for youuuuuu."

Blue shoved him, giggling, "Oh, come on. A little time alone with him was either going to make you step up and do something or give it up entirely."

"yeah, well, i dunno about me, but for a while there it was a tossup on whether he was going to fuck me or kill me."

"Looks like you won the toss."

"did i?" Stretch snorted, "he's still a complete dick."

"And yet somehow that doesn't stop you from wanting to sit on his—"

"blue!" Stretch sighed, rubbing his face, "it was…good, okay? i don't trust him, i can't. but…yeah. it was good."

"Good enough to go back for seconds?"

"i'm pretty sure edge is going to find a way to not be alone with me again until they leave."

"You'll think of something."

"what, like get locked in a closet with him?" Stretch snorted, "it’s fine, bro, seriously, one time only event."

"If you say so, brother."

Stretch knew his brother better than anyone and he should have known not to trust that tone. But exhaustion was pulling him in with greedy hands and he sank down into the comfort of his mattress, sighing when a warm blanket settled over him. A gentle hand ran over his skull, as familiar as his own, and Stretch hummed contentedly as he slipped into sleep.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge is faced with a challenge he'd never encountered in Underfell -- boredom.
> 
> Also, sometimes the most nefarious people are the ones you don't expect, even if you should.

* * *

It was entirely possible that Edge was going to lose his mind before the machine was fixed. 

His brother was handling their stranding a little too well. Red seemed to be treating their enforced stay as some sort of extended vacation. He was at a stage of bonding with the sofa that was more appropriate for newly hatched Drake than furniture.

A week's worth of relaxation and television was more a gift than an imprisonment for Red. For Edge, who was far more accustomed to working from morning to night, it was slowly turning to a subtle torture.

The lack of anything to do was maddening. Blue already kept the house very neat and tidy, so much so that even the combined efforts of Stretch and Red weren't enough to make any housework worth doing. Cooking might have been an option but Edge was reluctant to disrupt any of the meals that Blue had already planned and to get his own supplies would mean leaving the house…with Stretch, since Blue had tactfully suggested it might be best if he and Red stayed with one of them for any excursions in an unfamiliar 'verse.

Stretch had less tactfully stated that neither of them were allowed to fuck up Underswap and that they should consider this whole trip like junior prom night; a chaperone was a requirement. 

Not that Edge minded a chaperone; it was galling but understandable. This world was not his own, and frankly, he'd subtly banned Red from leaving the house with or without one of the Swap brothers before they'd even asked. His sense of humor might be similar to Stretch's but he could certainly be vicious with a prank. It might not fuck up the 'verse, but it might well fuck up the Swaps' ability to stay in Snowdin. 

If Blue had been available, Edge might have taken a trip to the store but he was at work. That left him with Stretch, who had been more than willing to take a week off from his jobs to play minder, and the idea of spending time alone with him grated. 

It wasn't even as if he'd _done_ anything. True to his word, Stretch hadn't said a thing. Hadn't made any subtle innuendos or given him any sly looks. He hadn't tried to touch or flirt or suggest or any of a hundred other things that Edge had feared and somehow that was more frustrating than if he had. 

Absolutely nothing in the past day had implied that anything between them had changed. Which, it hadn't, not really, one bout of ill-considered sex did not change anything. Stretch was still as obnoxious as ever, scraping over Edge like a bone cracked to the marrow. Still the same pathetic humor that matched Red's and yet somehow it was so much worse to hear it from Stretch, ridiculous puns and idiocy from something like this own face. 

At least if he would give Edge a knowing look or two, then Edge could remind himself that it had been a mistake to give in. 

Because it had. 

A mistake that didn't allow him to un-know what he now knew. 

_(he knew what stretch sounded like when he came, he knew, and sometimes when he glanced at him, he_ remembered _and--)_

And that left him here, six days into their accidental sabbatical, with every book in his inventory read and not a few of Blue's, avoiding Stretch as much as he could in a house with only two main rooms.

It was the Fates who decided to up the ante by handing him exactly what he'd been trying to avoid and really, it was a fucking shame that the Universe and his brother had such similar senses of humor. 

"welp, looks like it’s time for the second stage of our road trip movie."

"What are you babbling about now?" Edge muttered. In his desperation, he was working on a jigsaw puzzle that Blue had dug out for him. A Gyftmas present from his brother, Blue had told him wryly and after seeing it, Edge understood completely. The picture was of hundreds of Dalmatian puppies, only the picture was on both sides of the pieces, and there was no straight border. (Stretch had made a lazy comment that he didn't think Edge and Blue were legally allowed to do that puzzle together since it was _sans edges_. They'd both ignored him. Red had laughed so hard he'd nearly broken his bond with the sofa.)

Stretch held up his phone. "undyne just texted me that she's finished with the parts and that we, meaning you and me, can come get them."

"We," Edge said flatly. He added a piece to the few others he'd managed to place. This puzzle was not making him rethink his hatred of dogs. "And why do I need to come with you?"

"cause I need a pack mule to carry everything back. blue has to work and red is more likely to offer running commentary than actually lift anything. my own shitty humor should be enough to get us through this," Stretch rolled his eye lights, "what's the problem, i thought you wanted to get home?"

"Fine," Edge growled, "But we're walking. I'm in no mood to spend the afternoon in a state of nausea."

"you got it, boss."

It was Red who growled at him from his semi-permanent spot on the sofa. It was probably for the best the machine would be fixed soon or else Red might start merging with the cushions. 

Stretch raised both hands in surrender. "sorry, didn't mean to tread on your territory."

"watch it, asshole," Red muttered, slouching deeper into the sofa. Edge took a moment to walk over to him and picked him up, ignoring his brother's bewildered look as he set him back down on the other end of the sofa.

"Just trying to make sure the wear marks match," Edge told him, allowing himself a small smirk as his brother flipped him off. Behind him, Stretch made a smothered sound that was almost a laugh. When he looked, Stretch was waiting by the door, expression placid and blank.

"Let's get this over with," Edge muttered, and followed him outside.

* * *

The snow from the storm had been cleared away from the pathways and the walk to the Riverperson was little more than an easy stroll; or would have been, if Stretch could be bothered to walk faster than a meander. 

Edge forcibly kept himself at Stretch's pace. In the forest, he hadn't bothered, but here in Snowdin, he would obey Blue's edict and stay with the lazybones. (he allowed himself to think it, would never say it aloud, even if it made Red smile.)

The ever-present lighter was in Stretch's hands, flicking through his knuckles but he wasn't smoking. Instead, he was chewing on a toothpick and Edge could faintly smell cinnamon.

"Not smoking today?" he asked archly.

Stretch glared at him, "i'm protecting my poor, innocent cigarettes from the likes of you. they don't deserve to suffer."

At this time of the afternoon, Snowdin was as bustling as it ever was and the looks they were getting did not escape Edge's notice. Monsters would have been hiding in the homes, staring out of their curtains at him if Stretch wasn’t with him. Stretch gave him a thin layer of legitimacy that allowed a monster with LV to walk the streets in a Swap 'verse without the locals running for the lives.

It was…unnerving. Edge had no shame for his LV; he did what he needed for his brother and him to survive and no amount of disapproving glares made any difference. But then, it wasn't really disapproval in their eyes and he took no pleasure in being the first one to bring fear to the faces of the monsters in this Snowdin. In his own 'verse, fear was expected and useful; here it made him feel absurdly like a bully. 

Stretch didn't even seem to notice. He chewed on his toothpick, hands in his hoodie pocket, and shuffled along as though lifting his feet was entirely too much effort. 

"If you would walk faster, this would be over that much sooner."

"this is stupid," Stretch muttered. "what's up with you and teleporting, anyway? most people do fine when you start them off walking, but you seem ready to park your groceries no matter what i do."

"I've always had difficulty trusting idiots with my life," Edge said, deadpan.

Stretch's mouth opened in a silent 'ah'. "control issues, got it."

Before Edge could say anything to that, the Riverperson's boat came into view. Stretch offered them a halfhearted wave and stepped into it, sitting on the first bench and forcing Edge to step past him to the seat at the stern.

"Tra la la, off to Hotland today," the Riverperson's voice was higher in Underswap, possibly feminine; it was difficult to say on a monster with no visible face. They were one of the few monsters who seemed equally ominous in both 'verses.

"that's the place," Stretch said agreeably. He closed his eyes as the boat sped along, propping his chin on his hand. It gave Edge a chance to look at him and he didn't think about anything--

_(--not about those sounds, not how he'd looked splattered in orange and red,_ marked, _not--)_

\--other than the fact that he looked tired. How could someone who slept so much possibly be tired?

The trip sped along quickly and soon enough they were stepping out into the heat of Hotland. As they disembarked, the Riverperson offered one last bit of their dubious wisdom, "Tra la la, the one who walks through a door is never the same as the one who walks out." 

"thanks for the tip," Stretch said, flicking his toothpick into the water and meandered off with Edge at his heels.

Edge had only been to Underswap's Hotland once and his reaction to it was the same as before. He had been to a few different universes now and they had one commonality. Everything in an alternate universe seemed like some unkind Fate had picked up Underfell and just barely tilted it to one side or the other before setting it back down for the mortals to deal with. The differences in the atmosphere were subtle but ever-present. Even the light here seemed different and it made Edge want to rub his sockets and blink until the world came into the focus his vision wanted to see. 

The laboratory was in the same place as Underfell and it was just as messy as Alphys's but that was where the similarities ended. Probably for the best; this lab didn't make Edge feel like his bones were crawling and the lights were steady instead of dingy and flickering. 

It was also empty.

"undyne?" Stretch called, tentatively. There was only silence. 

"I thought you said she texted you."

"eh, she did, told me to meet her here," Stretch slouched into a chair, fumbling for another toothpick. A fresh whiff of cinnamon wafted in the air as he stuck it between his teeth. "probably stepped out for a minute or something, she should be right back."

Edge crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, grimacing in disgust at the workstation littered with dirty mugs in various stages of decomposition. Even if there had been another chair, he was unwilling to touch too much here. 

The cameras caught his attention and he spent an idle moment watching them cycle through various areas. Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland…was that someone's kitchen…?

The scent of something cloyingly sweet distracted him, overwhelming that subtle hint of cinnamon. There was nothing in the room for it to be coming from, the moldy cups all revealed desiccated ramen.

Stretch sat up abruptly and frowned, sniffing the air, "hey, do you smell tha..a…t?"

He sagged in the chair. Edge caught him as he toppled, lowering him carefully to the floor. His own vision was blurring and his instinctive reach for magic was barely a crimson spark at his fingertips. There was no time to react, to even think, before he sank into oblivion.

* * *

He had no way of telling the time when he woke. Disoriented but he shook it away easily enough. Around him was pitch black. Very carefully, Edge felt around him. The walls were close and one revealed a door. The knob rattled but did not turn. 

A further check revealed bones that weren't his own and under his hands, Stretch groaned and stirred, his eye lights cutting dimly through the darkness as he looked around wildly. 

"where are we?"

"It appears to be a closet of some sort." If the small enclosure didn't give that away, the broom certainly did. 

Silence greeted that, then, slowly, "please tell me you're kidding."

"You're the comedian."

"oh, fuck," Stretch groaned. "i didn't believe he'd actually do it."

"Didn't believe who would do what?" Edge asked, silkily. 

Stretch went very still. 

Perhaps that did sound a little too much like an underlying threat. "I'm not going to hurt anyone," Yet. "But I do need all the details of the situation." 

There was the faint sound of bone scraping bone and Edge imagined that Stretch was rubbing a hand over his face. "uh, just that my bro threatened to lock us in a closet together. you know, to make us get along better."

"I have a difficult time believing that your Undyne would go along with this." If meeting Blue and Stretch had been disconcerting then a timid Undyne had been outright disturbing. 

"alphys would," Stretch said darkly.

If their Alphys was anything like his Undyne, Edge could believe it. He sighed and pressed his fingers above his sockets where a headache was starting to form, "Blue may have been the instigator but this has both of our brothers written all over it. I should have suspected something, Red has been entirely too quiet," As pranks went, at least this one was erring on survivable, "Well, get us out of here."

"what?" Stretch's eye lights flickered as he blinked, startled, "how am i supposed to do that?"

"How do you think, you're the one who can teleport."

"uh, i really can't."

Edge made an impatient sound, "If you’re worried about the two minutes of dry heaving you’ll be stuck with, just make sure you take us someplace with a trash can."

"no, you asshole, i mean i literally can’t! i don’t know where we are."

"So what? You’ll know where you’re going."

"i know this isn't your thing, but there is an actual science to how we teleport. shortcuts need a beginning and an end. i need to _see_ where i am and i am not about to risk a blind teleport just because you’re not happy about being in a closet. your brother uses shortcuts, how the hell do you not know that?"

 _Because it was a weakness and anyone who knew could use it against him._ "It seems I’ve never been foolish enough to be trapped in a closet with him."

"ain't i the lucky one. well, i know that blue knows so i’ll give you one guess as to who plotted this."

It still sounded ridiculous and not just because they were physically in a closet. "I can’t believe your brother could be nefarious."

"you have no idea."

"And to what end?"

He felt Stretch shift, drawing his legs up. "um. i told you, he wants us to get along better."

"And I'm sure we will once you stop lying to me," Edge said evenly. 

"why the hell do you think i'm lying?"

If Stretch thought he couldn't hear the hedging in his voice, he was very much mistaken. Edge was used to dealing with much better liars than Stretch, including his own brother. "Because you're talking. Now, the truth please?"

Stretch sighed. He mumbled, almost too low for Edge to hear, "i think he wants me to give you a blowjob."

Well, that definitely wasn't the answer Edge had expected. "Your brother? The innocent little blueberry? I don’t believe you."

Glumly, "yeah, no one ever does. why the hell don't you get us out of here? blast through the door."

"That is an option if I want to damage both of us and probably kill you, snowflake."

"aw, did we graduate to pet names? great."

It was the very first hint of a reminder at what they had done that Stretch had given, implied blowjobs aside, and the memory that Edge had been trying to fiercely to suppress came roaring up to the forefront of his thoughts. He couldn't see Stretch but he remembered, he _knew_ , pretty, prickly Stretch, and they were here, alone…

"Well, then let’s get this over with," Edge said and he was fairly successful at keeping the roughness from his voice. His magic was already shifting, coalescing down between his legs. In a few moments it would be visible even through his pants.

"...what?"

"If a blowjob is what’s required, then get on with it!"

The answer was not the one he'd expected, not from _'we could fuck'_ Stretch. "uh, how about no? they'll let us out, eventually. undyne is going to need her closet back."

"If we are even in Undyne's closet," Edge pointed out, his voice rising close to a shout, "I’m not going to stay in a closet for an indeterminate time because you’re suddenly shy!"

"yeah, well, you being a dick doesn’t inspire me to put yours in my mouth!" Stretch shouted back.

Edge didn't think he'd ever heard the other skeleton so much as raise his voice before. It took him aback and he deliberated on that, thinking. "What would?" he asked abruptly. 

That seemed to deflate Stretch's indignation, "huh?"

"What would inspire you?"

"i…" Stretch stopped and seemed to consider for a long moment before he said, warily, "you first."

Edge nodded. "I accept your terms." 

And he dragged Stretch to his feet, pushing him against the wall with a hard thump. 

Stretch was only a little taller than him, tallest of all the Papyrus's, but he slouched over so much it usually wasn't noticeable. Pressed up against the wall it was more obvious. Edge had to lean up to where his breath was coming too quickly, sweetly and faintly cinnamon. They hadn't kissed last time and Stretch was stiff against him, not resisting but not leaning down.

No, then. 

Instead, Edge shifted to kneel. He felt as much as heard Stretch take a sharp breath. More affected than he'd let on then, good. 

Stretch was wearing those awful cargo shorts today. He could already see a soft glow coming from within. They were not a barrier to be borne and Edge unfastened them, easing them down his femurs and lower to puddle over his shoes. He didn't bother letting Stretch kick them off, more interested in what had been revealed. 

The cock that Stretch's magic formed was much like the skeleton himself, slender and long, the same rich orange as his cunt had been. Already rigid and wetness gleamed at the tip, begging for a fingertip or a tongue to wipe it away. 

Edge was in a giving mood. He reached out and curled a hand around it, his phalanges reflecting the soft glow. He stroked once, down and up, watching with interest. Stretch's magic formed with a foreskin. It was fascinating, the loose skin pulling taut as he slid downward and gathering at the tip as he stroked up and the urge was there to play for a time, dwelling on it. 

But that wasn't what they were here for.

Above him, Stretch made a low, creaking sound, glottal and thick, and Edge slid his hand to see if he would make it again. Instead, he earned words, not his goal in the slightest. "i like to consider myself something of an expert and let me tell you, that doesn't feel like a blowjob."

"Hush," Edge said absently, not truly expecting any such thing. 

It was nice to have his expectations rewarded from time to time. "yeah, sure, work your way up to it. been a long time?"

"Yes," Edge admitted easily. Underfell was not a universe meant for spending time on your knees in any capacity. Edge had only two other partners in his past and only one with whom he could do this. He'd enjoyed it at the time, the heady thrill of someone else losing control because of him. 

He expected to enjoy it this time. 

Deliberately, he stroked his thumb over one of Stretch's iliac crests, right where he knew he was sensitive, and a shiver ran through him.

"Do you want this?" Edge said. His voice seemed loud in the quiet of the small room, the only other sounds their breath and their bodies, bone against bone. 

"are you fucking with me right now?" Stretch asked in sharp disbelief.

"Papyrus," Edge felt him startle. "If you don’t want this, tell me now."

He shuddered. "you asshole. don’t stop."

"You're trembling," Edge murmured, breathing out long and slow, watching that shiver increase at the touch of his breath. "All right, then."

And without preamble, swallowed him down to the root. Edge pressed his conjured tongue against the underside of his dick in a slippery, tight slide. Stretch tasted like an odd combination of sweet and a faintly bitter sour, his preference for honey combined with his attitude. Their magic was a reflection of them, always. He pulled back enough to lick at the sultry wetness at the tip consideringly, drawing the length back into his mouth with slow, deliberate suction. Strange, but not unpleasant. 

The sound Stretch made was like a living thing, desperate and shocked. 

Perfect.

Edge had rarely done this but anything worth doing was worth doing right. He pulled off, ignoring Stretch's garbled protests to lick back where he was wetter, sweeter, and Stretch let out a guttural groan, legs quaking as Edge explored his cunt with a prehensile tongue. 

"…not…a blowjob…" Stretch panted, though the arch of his hips as Edge delved into his folds belied his complaint. 

It was true enough. With a last, lingering taste, Edge savored the sweet tang before licking his way back up. He opened his teeth teasingly, only to draw away when Stretch tried to push back inside. 

"oh, you cocksu—cker!," Stretch groaned out, his voice cracking as Edge curled his tongue around him, stroking the shaft in a slippery coil until he gave in to his own eagerness, swallowing him back down, bobbing his head in relentless rhythm. 

Delicate fingertips grazed against his skull, not even attempting to hold or guide him but still. Without raising his head, Edge summoned two small, jagged bones, finding Stretch's wrists with his own fingers and pressing them down before driving the bones through his sweatshirt and into the wall, pinning him. 

"what the fuc—" Stretch yelped, yanking uselessly at them for one instinctive moment before sagging back into the wall. "...control issues. right."

Edge ignored him, wrapping a hand at the base of Stretch's cock to steady it and swallowing him down, working him with the obscene sheath of his summoned throat. For once allowing this to be messy, his own magic drooling and wet against his tight fist. He made a low, pleased sound in his throat as Stretch's hips struggled to follow his rhythm and failed, caught between the wall and Edge, trapped like a struggling fly in a web. 

Dimly, Edge was aware that he had a web of his own far too close around him. His mistake had been giving in the first time. It made so much easier the next, resistance wearing thin, but then, Stretch was easy to want when he wasn’t speaking.

“ah, fuck...fuck, your _mouth_...fuck...!”

Then again, a little talking wasn’t a bad thing. 

Words disintegrated into desperate whimpers and the arch of Stretch's hips stuttered, fingers bones clicking as he fisted them, and his cries bordering on frantic, "…stop…stop…i'm gonna…you gotta…"

It was a warning and Edge was more than familiar with ignoring the warnings of others. He sucked strongly against the hard thickness in his throat, holding him in deep, _daring_ him and the hot spurts of wetness over his tongue were as sweetly-sour as before. He rolled the thickness over his tongue, a brief cushion of slickness between his tongue and Stretch's cock before swallowing. The sensation of foreign magic integrating with his own was briefly disturbing but it faded quickly. 

Stretch sagged down the wall the moment the bones pinning him to it faded, practically landing in Edge's lap, tangled in his shorts and shaking. 

"you asshole," Stretch slurred out, weakly swatting at Edge's shoulder. "i liked this sweatshirt."

"It and the rest of your clothing should be burned," Edge caught his skull in both sticky hands, gently tipping it back and pressing their teeth together. Stretch's mouth parted automatically, letting Edge press his tongue inside to share Stretch's taste with him, gifting Edge with a fresh wash of sweetly sour as their tongues slid against each other. It was much too soft, almost tender, _delicate snowflake_ echoing in the back of Edge's dizzying thoughts, endless moments drifting by before he drew back. 

He let Stretch shift away from him, felt him fixing his shorts while Edge tried to do the same with his scattered wits.

Stretch cleared his throat, awkwardly, "well, the good news is the lightshow was enough for me to see where we are."

The implications of that came too slowly, "Wait!

And ultimately too late. 

Edge clapped a hand over his mouth and managed to get to the bathroom before retching, vaguely noting they were back at the Underswap brother's house. His non-existent stomach roiled, threatening to expel anything in its path. Slowly, Edge breathed, inhale, exhale, waiting for the world to settle around him.

When Stretch appeared at the door, to his credit, he did appear somewhat sheepish. "oh, right. sorry, i forgot. wasn't trying to back out of the deal," he took a step back at Edge's baleful glare, "i’ll have to give you a rain check. doesn’t seem like you're _up_ to it right now."

Edge sincerely hoped Stretch could see the murder in his eye lights. The way he swallowed made Edge think he did. "Get out," Edge rasped and for one brief, glorious moment, Stretch obeyed him.

It gave him a chance to settle on the floor by the toilet. As clean as the room was, sparkling white porcelain, Edge chose to rest his forehead against his own arm, waiting for the nausea to subside. 

The Fates were probably laughing their asses off right now.

* * *

Outside, Stretch walked behind the house and paused to lean beside the door. Fumbling through his pockets, he came up with a cigarette and his lighter. His hands were shaking so badly he had to chase the tip with the flame, taking a long drag and holding it, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Papy?"

Stretch closed his sockets briefly. "over here."

His brother peeked curiously around the corner of the house, eye lights sparkling, "Did it work?"

"yeah, it worked."

Blue's smirk widened and he made his way over to his brother, matching his leaning posture before elbowing him in the hip. "Sriracha, then?"

"nah, didn’t get that far. He...uh...kinda took over."

"Papy!" Blue shook his head in mock dismay, "This was supposed to be your chance. There are times that you do need to put in the effort, you know."

"yeah, well, he went off script and i forgot that teleportation and him don’t mix."

Blue gave him a searching look, frowning. "Are you all right? Was he…was he angry? It was supposed to come off as a prank…" His eye lights guttered out, his voice deepening to a register that few knew him capable of, "Did he _hurt_ you?"

"no!" Stretch yelped, "no, fuck no, no, nothing like that, course not. my sweatshirt wasn’t so lucky."

He held his wrists up ruefully and Blue blinked at the holes in the fabric, threading a finger bone through one. "That is unexpected and possibly disturbing, brother."

"not as much as you'd think." 

"Papy," Blue said slowly and his gentle tone made Stretch want to close his sockets again, "This is supposed to be fun, yes? For both of you, so you could stop dancing around each other. If you aren’t having fun..."

"i am!"

"Are you?"

"yes," Stretch said firmly. He flicked his cigarette butt into the snow where it hissed out, then guiltily retrieved it at his brother's look to drop in the can by the door. "it's fine, bro, really. i should get working on the machine while there's still a few hours in the day."

"All right, brother," Blue said. His gaze was penetrating but Stretch had long years of experience in ignoring that.

"do me a favor? make the asshole a cup of tea or something," Stretch grimaced. "he could probably use something to wash out his mouth."

"In more ways than one," Blue murmured and Stretch was more than happy to ignore that, too. He gave his brother a wave and then made his way down to the basement, following the sound of clanking.

Red looked up at him from the innards of the machine with a dark scowl, "what the fuck took you so long? blue brought the parts back like, an hour ago."

"yeah," Stretch said wearily. He rolled up his sleeves, the holes at the wrists disappearing into the folds of fabric. "let’s get this fixed."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers have to put in their two cents. They are the only ones who enjoy this. 
> 
> * **Please read the notes at the end if you're afraid of triggers.** I don't wanna spoil and it's not much of anything but I'd rather overwarn than underwarn. (no puns intended)

* * *

The only bright spot in an otherwise terribly inconvenient problem was that it didn't usually take long for his teleportation nausea to fade. Even if it had, Edge was used to handling less than ideal circumstances and more than once he'd had to fight with that same queasiness lingering in his magic. 

Happily, on this occasion, it eased quickly. Edge took a moment to rinse his mouth from the sink, washing away the sourness of used magic, before heading back downstairs. He wondered idly if Stretch was waiting there and what he would do if he was. Murder was still on the top of his list but calling in that rain check wasn't all too far below it.

Instead of Stretch, however, he found Blue sitting at the table, poking idly at the puzzle still laid out. He smiled at Edge warmly, the stars of his eye lights glinting. As if he was happy to see Edge and there was something _about_ that that made his soul…ease. Even his own brother was not always happy to see him and Blue knew him, knew more about him than Edge thought such a gentle being should, and still. He was always, always, happy to see him. 

"Are you feeling better?" Blue asked brightly, "My brother suggested you might like some tea. I have sea tea, golden flower and chamomile." Sitting on a tray was a plain but serviceable tea set and a set of sturdy mugs.

"Did he?" Edge said, taking a seat. "Chamomile will be fine."

Blue beamed at him and poured out the hot water, busying himself adding tea bags to two mugs. There was nothing but silence as the tea brewed and when it was finished, Edge declined sugar or cream, holding the warm mug in his hands as Blue drop two sugar cubes into his own cup. 

With one long finger bone, Edge touched a puzzle piece, nudging it hopefully into position. 

"I should be angry with you," Edge said idly. He took a long sip, the gentle flavor soothing the last of his agitated magic. 

"If you need to be angry with me, then you should," Blue said agreeably. He picked up two pieces of his own, testing. When no match was made, he sighed regretfully and set them back down. "It was…impulsive I suppose, but since my options seemed to be that or watching you two spend the last of your stay here sniping and growling at each other, it seemed more productive."

This was disconcerting. He'd spent a week here talking with Blue, about puzzles and recipes, planning meals and discussing books. To hear him cheerily admit that he'd also helped plan to drug him and his own brother, and trap them in a closet together…well. 

"You’re more like my brother than a thought." _And more like me._

"I like to think I'm just more observant than most monsters give me credit," Blue said cheerily. "I can certainly read my brother like a well-loved book."

"Then you should know he can’t stand me," Edge said drolly. 

Blue hummed, non-committal, taking a sip of tea. He looked at Edge over the rim of the mug, "But he’s very attracted to you."

"I cannot fathom why," Edge muttered. He barely resisted a triumphant crow of delight when he finally matched a piece. Only five-hundred and seventeen more to go. 

"Oh, I can see the appeal," Blue gave him something resembling a mischievous smirk and it was by far the most disturbing thing he'd seen in Underswap so far. He hadn't really wanted to believe Stretch, even with Blue admitting his own complicity, or perhaps that he'd only meant it as a prank. It was growing uncomfortably more believable that when Stretch had said his brother had wanted blowjobs, he'd _meant_ blowjobs. It was worse when Blue propped his chin on his hand and swept his eye lights over Edge appraisingly. "But you’re not my type."

"Something else we agree on." Blue's resemblance to his brother was growing by the minute and frankly, it made him less attractive than a moldsmal. Red was combative, insulting, lazy, and manipulative, and Edge loved him with all his fractured soul. But definitely not like that. Warily curious, Edge asked, "What is your type?"

Blue wagged a finger at him, tutting disappointedly, "We aren’t talking about me."

"I’d rather not be talking about me either, but I'm quite used to not getting what I want," Blue opened his mouth, looking unhappy, but Edge shook his head. "Don’t lock me in a closet again. If I want your brother, I’ll find my own way."

Sly smile, "So you do want him."

Edge didn't answer, flicking one puppy-spotted piece across the table. "This is the worst puzzle I’ve ever seen."

A soft blue glow enveloped the pieces and Edge leaned back in his chair as they rose into the air. Blue had one hand raised, magic lighting his fingertips and glowing within one of his sockets. As Edge watched, he couldn't help admiring Blue's control as the pieces flickered around, scattering and reforming like a fluttering caricature of cardboard butterflies. Until slowly they began to align, the picture flowing into existence. Carefully, the completed puzzle settled back on the table, hundreds of horrid, adorable, spotted puppies gazing moistly out from their frozen poses.

"I suppose that's one way to do it," Edge said, bemused. "That worked but now we have nothing to do."

Blue gathered up the tea set, setting their empty mugs on the tray. "Burning it sounds appealing. Come on, let’s make dinner. I got the ingredients for lasagna. Even found some ground spicy sausage for it."

It was a peace offering and Edge knew it. "Very well."

He followed Blue into the kitchen, hoping he was serious about the burning remark. As they made the sauce and prepped the noodles, chatting idly, he made a point of not thinking about their brothers. Either of them.

* * *

"next time I hope i get stuck with undertale sans. he’s got better jokes," Stretch grunted around the screwdriver clenched in his teeth. Doing repairs on the machine was not, strictly, difficult. It was however time-consuming, irritating, and meticulous. The schematics that they had were wildly inaccurate and even seemed to _change_ , somehow, sections that Stretch was certain were laid out one way turned out to be completely different. 

And so without a proper diagram, before they could even take any of it apart he and Red had to sketch the layout with excruciating detail. When they did finally disassemble a section it was with scrupulous care, labeling every part, every screw no matter how tiny, with precise location. When the stakes were as high as Edge and Red never being able to return home as well as them never being able to see any of the other 'verses again, well, there could be no mistakes allowed. A heavy, unwelcome weight resting on both of their bony shoulders. 

They _could_ do it, certainly. They didn't _want_ to do it, absolutely. 

"he’s a good lay, too," Red offered absently. He was labeling the last few parts with careful print before they replaced the burned out oscillators on the main board.

Stretch froze, his sockets going wide, "are you serious?"

Red looked at him and held his gaze for a long time before he finally broke, snickering and shaking his head.

"you asshole."

"you almost believed it," Red snorted. "i don’t think sans has dropped his shorts since. well. since he put them on."

"oh yeah?" Stretch couldn't smack Red, not without knocking parts everywhere and destroying their work, dooming the Fells to a lifetime in Underswap. He settled for the less satisfying but ultimately safer route of rolling his eye lights. "and i bet you are. is this where i have to hear about all the sweet tail you're getting? because actually, i can live without that for about….oh, forever, i think. does forever work for you?"

"nah, i just told you i’m not getting any _‘tale’_ " Red leered and Stretch reluctantly offered him a congratulatory fist bump. Credit where credit was due. "i mean, out of the guys in this room, i’m not the one getting laid, am i?" 

Stretch went very still. "no. we are not discussing this. no, no, nooooo; seven layers of no, this is the nopocalypse, no."

"no, huh? tell you what, why don’t i start fucking your baby bro and we can see how much you feel like talking then?"

"i’m feeling a lot chattier all of a sudden," Stretch said earnestly, "a big ol' renewed urge to talk."

"kinda thought you'd feel that way," Red said dryly. "but you know somethin'? i bet if i ask you a question you'll just talk, talk, talk, blah blah, fucking blah, and by the time you're done yakking, i still won't have a fucking answer."

"fascinating," Stretch drawled, propping his chin on a fist and gazing at Red with wide, innocent sockets, "it's like you've met me before or something."

Red stood up carefully, studying his work with a painstaking care. When he decided everything was in order, he nodded firmly…then took Stretch by the arm and dragged him up. Ignoring his protesting yelp, he pulled Stretch away from the machine and the diagrams of parts and papers mazed on the floor. Only to push him down in the far corner, sitting with his back to the wall. 

"aw, man, don't kill me," Stretch blurted, "you've been doing so well all week, think about how pissed off blue will be if you kill me, he even said he was making lasagna tonight—"

"shut up," Red grunted. He stepped over Stretch, feet on either side of his femurs, to settle into his lap, their pelvises aligned. Red eye lights glared into Stretch's pale, startled ones, his teeth clenched in a near grimace as he ground himself into Stretch's lap. 

"what are you doing?!!" Stretch came embarrassingly close to a shriek. His hands flailed, torn between pushing Red away and not touching him at all. He settled for grabbing his shoulders and shoving, making a few inches of space between them. 

Red gave him a smirk. "what, don’t want to fuck me too?"

"no!"

Red eye lights searched Stretch's face with the same painstaking intensity as he gave to their work. He nodded, once, and stood up. "just checking."

Without another word, he went back to the machine. Stretch watched in disbelief as he settled a pair of incongruently delicate glasses on his face before picking up his tools, wondering with dazed confusion how they stayed in place. 

"fuck me, what the hell was that?" Stretch blurted. 

"no, you _don’t_ want to fuck me, that’s the point," Red said patiently. He used a small pair of tweezers to pull one of the burned capacitors, adding it to the pile of bad parts. 

"of course i don’t! you look like my baby brother…if he ever got viciously attacked by the salesmonsters at the ntt emo shop."

"yeah?" Red peered over the rims of his glasses at Stretch, "and you look like the boss; doesn’t seem to be stopping you."

That made Stretch draw his knees up uncomfortably, wrapping his arms around them. He muttered out, "we are nothing alike."

"yeah, keep telling yourself that, honey bun," Red snorted. "anyway, if it’s just my bro you’re after, that’s okay. just wanted to make sure you're not trying to fuck your way through the multiverse."

"it wouldn't be any of your business if i was," Stretch said sullenly. His sleeves were sliding down his arms, unrolling enough to let the ragged holes peek out. Stretch hastily pushed them back up and firmly did not think of how they got there because the last thing he needed right now was a little glow action at crotch level.

"not even a little," Red agreed cheerfully. 

Stretch blew out a sharp breath. He didn't look away from Red, watching his careful work. His finger bones had visibly healed cracks and divots but they were quick and nimble. "anyone ever tell you you're an overprotective dickwad?"

"oh please, don’t even try to preach to me, choir," Red said. He held up the tray of capacitors with those mistreated hands and threw in an impatient frown. "now are you going to help me with this or not?"

Stretch looked at the floor, covered in their sketched diagrams and components, everything taken apart piece by meticulous piece and waiting for the two of them to put it back together. Depending on the two of them. 

"fuck yes, I am, freak."

"love you too, honey bun."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a hinty hint of non-consensual honeymustard. Not much, nothing really happens, but I wanted to warn just in case.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is lasagna and other things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, let's see if I can earn that 'E' rating.

* * *

"I think Napstatton should invite us on his next cooking show," Blue declared, cradling their creation between two oven-mitted hands. 

Edge had to agree. The lasagna was perfect. They had made the sauce together; each spice and its quantity had been carefully negotiated. Every layer had been placed evenly, noodles tucked into a bed of sauce, cheese, and meat. The cheese on top was a perfect golden crisp. 

"If those feral creatures we call brothers wolf this down without tasting it, they can look forward to cooking their own meals from now on."

It was an idle threat and by Blue's laugh, he knew it. Edge leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as Blue carefully covered their masterpiece to keep it warm. A few hours of cooking with Blue had been calming and as troublesome as their stay in Underswap had been, Edge couldn't say he regretted it. A chance to simply relax and enjoy something as simple as cooking a good meal was a rare treat and conversations with Blue equally so.

Red and Stretch were both able to illicit many emotions from him. Calm was not one of them.

"Speaking of our brothers," Blue said, stacking their prep dishes into a sinkful of soapy water. "We should probably go get them. They've been in the basement for hours."

"A chance to do real work is good for them," Edge grumbled, shaking his head. "I'll get them."

Offering to do dishes never worked out to his advantage. He should have suspected Blue of hidden depths simply by the fact that he could cheerfully argue around offers of help until the dishes were already washed and put away.

Blue nodded and waved him off with a soapy hand, "Yes, yes, if we don't interrupt them they'll be there all night." His eye lights twinkled in amusement, "They might even possibly be awake for it."

It was no wonder that Stretch was so lazy, Edge grumbled to himself as he stomped to the door. Blue was an enabler to an unhealthy degree, he was sure.

Outside, the cold was bracing and Edge took a deep breath of chilly air, a refreshing contrast to the nearly stifling heat of the kitchen. He made his way around the house and nearly knocked over his own brother turning a corner.

"whoa, boss!" Red windmilled his arms to stay upright and Edge caught him by the shoulder, hauling him up. "in a rush?"

"I was just coming to get you two, dinner is ready," Edge said. Red brightened visibly; his brother at least appreciated good cooking. Of course, Red had likely endured less appetizing meals more frequently than Stretch; at least he had an excuse for why he ate like someone might snatch his plate away at any moment.

"thank fuck, i'm starving. we're making good progress, boss," Red nodded towards the basement door. "the way things are going, we should have it ready to go by tomorrow."

Good news. Edge ignored the flutter of dismay that accompanied it. It was past time for them to be home. This little excursion was pushing Edge's limits in more ways than one. And thinking of limits, there were a few he and his brother should discuss. Red started to pull out of his grip, heading towards the house, and frowned when Edge didn't let him go. 

"I'm not sure I should let you eat," Edge mused idly, watching as Red's sockets widened in dismay, "After the afternoon you put me through, I should let you starve."

"me? what did I do?" Red whined, and he sounded honestly bewildered. Red was a good liar but he wasn't _that_ good.

Sighing, Edge let him go. "Nothing, it seems."

"nah, you can't play it like that, boss, what happened?" Red crossed his arms and glared. His brother could be remarkably stubborn when he chose and chances were he would stay there, ankle-deep in snow, until the false night fell and even then he might fall asleep where he stood rather than give in.

The lesser of three evils seemed to be telling him before Blue or Stretch did. It did not make it easier. Edge ground his teeth and force out, "It seems that Blue thought his brother and I weren't getting along well enough and chose to enlist his friends in locking us in a closet together. I thought you might be involved." No reason to tell him the results of that particular experience.

He expected Red to laugh; expected him to crack a joke or a pun, expected to be mocked between guffaws. 

He did not expect outrage, pure and simple, "are you serious? in a closet?"

"Yes," Edge confirmed, warily. Red was difficult to get truly riled but when he was, things ended poorly for those who had angered him. 

"how?" Red asked suspiciously. "stretch can teleport and you're not exactly a tame kitten, bro."

"They drugged us with some kind of gas," Edge said, honestly. He preferred not lying to his brother if he could help it. Lies begat lies and Red did enough of it for both of them. If they could trust nothing else in Underfell, they needed to trust each other as much as possible. "The closet was dark and according to Stretch, teleportation isn't possible unless point A and point B are known." Red didn't comment on that piece of information, Edge noticed. He made a mental note to bring it up to him again later, when his brother was a little more hemmed in. He needed to _know_ his brother's weaknesses and damn whatever Red thought about it. 

"the little blueberry drugged you and the honey bun and locked you in a closet?" Red said, loudly, and that alone was slightly relieving. It was when Red was quiet that things sat on a razor-edge of danger. 

"Is repeating it making it easier to understand?" Edge snapped. "Yes!"

"are you tellin' me that twerp got you locked in a closet and didn’t let me in on it?" Red groaned, covering his face with both hands. "what a fucking waste! i'll never catch you off guard enough to do it again!"

Oh, for…Edge gave his brother a rough shove in the direction of the house. "Go inside and I'll fetch your mental twin."

"ugh, don't say it like that," Red grumbled. "one brother is enough."

That they could agree on, particularly since Edge's thoughts on Stretch were far from brotherly. He waited until Red had turned the corner, the call of food stronger than continuing to torment his brother, before opening the basement door.

* * *

Edge walked down the stairs to the basement and paused. The room was a sort of organized chaos that he recognized from whenever Red was in one of his moods. Trays of parts were laid out on a narrow table, a few larger sections arranged in almost mathematical precision on the floor. A large panel was off the side of the machine and from this angle, Edge could see that Stretch was halfway inside it on his knees.

He shifted, his sweatshirt riding up and giving Edge an excellent view of his iliac crests and spine over the waistband of his shorts, the pearly-pale curve of bones that he'd only seen once before. It was a shame that Stretch usually wore such unflattering clothes but it should be no surprise beneath that lumpy sweatshirt and baggy pants he’d look more than a little enticing. He was a Papyrus, after all.

His attention was completely focused on what he was doing and from within, Edge could hear him singing softly to himself, a tune that Edge didn't recognize. It was always interesting when these universal contrasts cropped up; from what he could hear, Stretch had a nice enough voice and Edge couldn’t carry a tune if it was handed to him.

His hips were swaying just slightly, following the rhythm of his song, and Edge stood for a moment to simply admire the view. It was such a shame that such an attractive monster came packaged with, well, all the rest of him. Such was the cruelty of the Fates.

A temptation rose, childish, perhaps, but much too difficult to resist. Edge stepped forward on silent feet, standing next to Stretch. He allowed himself a brief moment to take in the new angle of Stretch's pelvis before reaching out to draw his sharpened fingertips up Stretch's spine, scratching lightly at sensitive cartilage.

The results were gratifying. 

Stretch _yelped_ , jumping wildly and banging his skull loudly on the cabinet. The curses that emerged would have had Blue sprinting for a bar of soap but Edge only chuckled softly. Less amusing was what Stretch said next. 

"red, you piece of shit, i told you—" he backed out of the cabinet to snarl. Anger dropped from his face and he looked at Edge blankly, "you’re not red."

Edge raised an eye ridge, "No, I am not. I’m a little curious why you thought I was."

Stretch crawled further out of the machine, grabbing a rag and wiping off his hands. "what brings you down here?"

It didn't escape his notice that Stretch didn't answer his unasked question. Edge allowed him to play avoidance. For now. He nodded at the machine, "Are you two making progress?"

"well, the original problem was the power flow was overwhelming the oscillators and burning them out," Stretch said, ticking off on his fingers, "we already fixed that and changed out the capacitors for ones that can handle the load, so now we're rebuilding the main circuit board to better facilitate the—"

Edge held up a hand and Stretch trailed off, blinking in confusion.

"Unless you’re simply enjoying the sound of your own voice, you may as well stick with yes or no," Edge said dryly, "Because I didn’t understand a word of that."

"fair enough," Stretch shrugged. "it’s going okay. we should be done by tomorrow sometime, depending on how much we get done between naps." Stretch lounged against the side of the machine, digging his lighter out of his pocket. He drew up a knee and draped his arm over it, flipping the silver metal lazily through his fingers.

It wasn't worth wasting the words on scolding. "How can someone so brilliant be such a lazy piece of shit?"

Stretch gave him a sly smile, "you think i’m brilliant?"

Blast it, he'd just said it and couldn't deny it now. There was something in Stretch's smile, a rare hint of honest delight, and Edge sighed and said, grudgingly, "You have moments of brilliance. Short moments."

"aw, don't hurt yourself, lover." Edge ignored that and glared at the lighter instead. Stretch noticed and held up the object of his ire, "don’t worry, i can’t smoke in here. what are you doing down here, anyway? checking to make sure we're actually working?"

It was the smirk, perhaps, or the easy sprawl of his legs, perhaps the memory of the pale bone of his pelvis and spine, pure and sweet, matching the long, delicate bones of his hands and the clever way they moved when he toyed with his lighter. Whatever it was, it was the point that tipped Edge over and in that moment, he gave in. Blue had said his brother was very attracted to him and, Stars, Edge could admit the same.

He'd known giving in the first time was a mistake when he'd done it. The second had only been easier, and by the third? It was becoming a habit that he wasn't sure he wanted to break. Prickly, pretty Stretch and Edge wanted him. 

Stretch's eye sockets went wide as Edge crouched down, catching Stretch's chin with his sharp fingertips and tipping his head up. 

"No," Edge told him, letting the words fall low and rough, "I came to call in my raincheck."

To his unexpected delight, Stretch’s cheekbones went immediately bright orange. He was so carelessly sexual it was enchanting to see he could still blush. Less appealing was that he looked uncomfortable, his eye lights flicking away from Edge's. 

Edge slowly withdrew, not liking that at all. Carefully, he said, "You know I wouldn’t force you."

That got him a startled look, "what? no, i didn't—"

"I was teasing. I would never…" he exhaled slowly. Reassurance did not come easily to him, it tasted foreign and unpleasant. "I wouldn't hurt you, snowflake," he tried, softening it, reminding Stretch that he hadn't forgotten who he was with.

Stretch was already rolling his eye lights, "yeah, thanks, asshole, but we both know you'd have to catch me first." He caught Edge's hand and brought it back to his face, nuzzling at his knuckle bones. "i want to, you prick. only, your brother might come back."

Ah. That he could work with. "I would think you’d be one to like the possibility of being caught."

"heh. maybe," Stretch snorted. "but red would be more likely to hang around and offer an in-depth critique. in this room, once they open the door you're pretty much putting on a show."

Edge gave him a smirk of his own. "Coward."

Bullseye. Stretch sat up straight, radiating pure indignation, his lighter clenched in his sudden fist. "all right, asshole, c’mere." 

With more grace than Edge would have suspected Stretch possessed, he rolled to his feet, catching Edge's arm and pulling him around to the side of the machine, out of sight from the stairway.

The space between the metal side and the wall was barely more than a darkened nook and a tight fit for the two of them. Until Stretch dropped to his knees, leaning so his back was pressed against the side of the machine. His grin didn't seem mocking but Edge couldn't trust that. He stood perfectly still, waiting, until Stretch tipped his head back invitingly.

"c'mon, control issues, give it to me. i’m all yours."

His voice was silken, soaked through with lust, and his _words_ \-- it was like a direct hit to the soul. 

Roughly, Edge opened his belt, the clink of the metal loud in the tiny space. Stretch’s teeth were parted, just a hint of his tongue showing, his eye lights glowing through the dimness. Edge took himself in hand, rubbing the tip against Stretch's teeth and leaving a smear of dark magic. The rich crimson of Edge's cock was a sharp contrast against white bone. The gap between his teeth widened, the orange of his tongue a plush padding against his bottom teeth and Edge couldn't wait any longer. Hunched his hips and pressed deep into the slickness of that conjured throat until he could feel Stretch gag slightly, his pubic symphysis grazing Stretch's teeth.

He didn’t protest; instead, hands cupped the backs of Edge's femurs, sliding up to his hips encouragingly… 

_No._

…and utterly unresisting when Edge grabbed his wrists and pressed them to the wall, nothing but sweetly pliant. His mouth was a hot pressure surrounding him, his magic as soft and yielding as the rest of him. Begging for Edge to inch his way out and then roughly push back in, feeling Stretch swallowing around him. He had to stop for a moment and gather himself, the easy, open wetness of the mouth around him almost too much.

And there was the mocking, in Stretch's eye lights gazing too-knowingly up at him, daring him to come after only a few moments. It took all Edge's focus to wrestle back control, pushing in again and feeling Stretch's startled inhale, his throat convulsing as it was abruptly filled. He found a rhythm and their little nook filled with low, wet sounds as he rode the slickness of Stretch's mouth.

"Even on your knees you find a way to make me do all the work," Edge breathed, watching the slide of his cock in and out. Fuck, that _mouth_ , nothing but blissful, tight, wet heat.

Stretch hummed around him, making him hiss out a breath through his teeth at the vibration. His vision was blurring, sweat hot on his skull, when the wrists in his hands twisted abruptly, testing, and Edge tightened his grip, saw the hot flare in Stretch's eye lights and groaned. 

"Don't fight me," he ground out. 

Stretch's sockets went wide with false innocence and he could almost read, _who, me?_ in their depths. 

"Don't," Edge warned, catching both slim wrists in one hand and cupped the back of his skull with the other. It changed the angle and he was rewarded with sudden depth, choking out a low, guttural sound and—

The door opened and they froze, both of them still and listening to heavy footfalls on the steps.

"Stretch?" Red's voice, low and questioning and Edge closed his sockets briefly. Of course it was; the Fates would certainly find humor in Stretch being right.

They didn't move, barely concealed around the side of the machine and Edge could hear Red grumbling, the sounds of papers shuffling. If they moved at all Red would hear, if they didn't move, they might be found, and even if they managed to conceal what they were doing, there were no good reasons for them to be where they were. An eclectic selection of choices and none of them good, traps in every direction.

A glance down at Stretch confirmed what he already suspected. He could see mirth all but sparkling in his eye lights. Stretch's conjured tongue, which had been content to lay soft and lax, chose this moment to come alive, curling around his cock. The slippery wet squeeze of it around him made him lock his throat against any sounds desperate to escape, even as the tip of Stretch's tongue slid over the head playfully. The first spangles of orgasm were teasing up his spine and in a moment he was going to come, damningly uncontrolled. 

With the last vestiges of his control and as quietly as he could, Edge reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. One handed, he fumbled through the contact list and sent a quick text. He heard the ping of Red's phone, listened to click of his fingertips against glass as he checked it. A long moment of silence and Red let out an annoyed huff and clomped back up the stairs. The door closed loudly behind him and the moment it did, Edge dug his fingertips into Stretch's skull and fucked _hard_ into that sweet, willing mouth, hunger and need overshadowing any sense. 

His bony hand was barely a buffer between Stretch's head and the machine, keeping his skull from knocking against it. He dropped his own skull against the cold metal, groaning as pleasure flared and he came hard enough that his knees weakened, forcing him to lean into Stretch. Grinding his pelvis into his face and he could feel Stretch choking a little at the hot, liquid magic filling his throat. He kept pressed in tight, his grip firm on Stretch's wrists, waiting until the last shuddered pulses faded and the hot puffs of Stretch's breaths against his pelvis grew slightly panicked. 

Finally, he withdrew with a wet, obscene sound, grunting at the loss and the touch of cool air. He let his magic fade and released Stretch's hands, hauling up his pants and buckling them.

Stretch coughed a little, sagging against the machine with a trail of red sliding down his chin. Eye lights gleaming, mouth slick as he smirked up at Edge. "worth the wait?"

His voice was blurred and hoarse. It made Edge want to kiss him, to taste those softly mocking words. Not a temptation worth resisting. He hauled Stretch unsteadily to his feet and licked the thread of redness away, tasting himself and the sweet-sourness that was Stretch. Against his hip he could feel heat rising from Stretch's crotch and palmed it through the fabric, listened to him whimper against Edge's teeth.

Deftly, he slid a hand into Stretch's shorts, curling it around the hard length of his cock. Achingly hot and slick, he was practically dripping, and his tongue was frantic against Edge's when he stroked him, garbled pleading and need. Hardly more than a couple strokes had him coming and Edge let the wet spurts soak into his shorts and sweatshirt, let him mark himself with his own come. 

"thanks," Stretch said wryly, still panting. His breath hitched as Edge traced a sharpened fingertip over the streaks of wetness. 

"You look better with my come on you," Edge told him and that bright flush colored his cheekbones again.

"that…i don't even know what to say to that," Stretch said unsteadily. He was a flustered mess, sweaty and come-streaked, and wobbling on his feet.

Perfect.

He let Stretch stumble out of the nook, grabbing a rag to dab uselessly at his stained clothes. "I actually came to tell you dinner is ready," Edge said, lightly. "Your brother and I made lasagna."

"wow, thanks for mentioning my bro," Stretch grimaced, looking down at himself. "you know, i think i'll take a quick shower before i come to the table. asshole."

"I could tell your brother you already ate," Edge offered, and that fading blush bloomed back to life.

"fuck...what happened to you?" Stretch said, bewildered. Every time Edge saw him, Stretch was so self-contained and smug, always filled with bright sarcasm and cutting remarks. It was enchanting to see him so off-balance. "you weren't this much of a pervert this afternoon."

"No?" Edge shook his head and walked to the stairs. A quick glance at his own clothes assured him he was unmarked. "I'll see you at dinner."

He left Stretch down there, still wobbling and disconcerted, and made his way back out into the fresh, clean air. Perhaps giving in to certain urges was acceptable from time to time, he decided. 

After all, if the Fates weren't going to reward him with anything in life, he might as well take his own.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. There. Whatcha think, did I earn the rating?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There have probably been more awkward dinners at some point in the history of time but it doesn't much matter. Edge wouldn't have wanted to go to those dinners, either.

* * *

The lasagna was still covered when Edge came back upstairs but Blue had taken advantage of his absence to make some quick garlic bread. Usually Edge preferred to hand-prepare all the elements in a meal but, well, garlic bread was never wrong, even with pre-made bread.

Then again, it was possible Blue had made it in self-defense. Red was chewing on a piece messily, scattering soggy crumbs; he was only this disgusting when he was annoyed and he was _visibly_ annoyed, his eye lights pinpricks of vicious red.

Blue's expression was slightly strained when he looked up from setting the table, his smile of greeting fading when he saw Edge was alone, "Where's Papy?"

"Your brother said he wanted to take a quick shower first," Edge said, seating himself, He didn’t elaborate. Let them draw their own conclusions. In Red's case, they were likely correct. After what he'd learned about Blue in the past day, his probably were as well.

Red whined, his mangled piece of bread falling to the table, "oh c'mon, i can smell it! i haven't eaten since fucking breakfast, this is torture!"

With the tips of two fingers, Blue gingerly picked up the mauled remains of bread and garlic butter, and set it on Red's plate. "Being uncomfortable for a few minutes is not torture. Haven’t you seen the anime, Elfen Lied? When you get to that level you can complain about torture."

Red looked intrigued, smearing the crumbs from his face with his sleeve. "haven't seen that one. is it good?"

Blue brightened instantly and launched into a vivid and frankly gruesome description, Red's eye lights widening in fascination with every word. Oh, Stars, Red and Blue were finding common ground, likely the worst thing outcome of them staying in Underswap that was possible. 

Before Edge could come up with plan to stop them from bonding, a door upstairs opened and Stretch wandered out. 

He still looked slightly damp, dressed in a plain t-shirt and soft pajama bottoms, his feet bare. Without his customary hoodie and loose shorts, he looked almost willowy, tall and delicately slim. Edge caught a whiff of clean soap as he passed by. 

"smells good, bro." Stretch gave his brother a brief hug from behind and scraped a knuckle over Red's skull, neatly dodging his snarled swipe of clawed fingers. He didn't attempt to touch Edge, possibly demonstrating one of those moments of brilliance. 

Blue preened under the faint praise. "Edge helped!"

"thanks for the warning, i'll keep a look out for razors."

"Razors wouldn't compliment the flavor of the sauce," Edge said blandly, "nails would be better."

Blue looked equal parts dismayed and amused. Red laughed outright, loudly and shaking the table. Stretch twitched something almost like a smile and, reluctantly, held out a fist. And continued holding it out while Edge stared at it suspiciously.

"you're supposed to bump it, boss," Red said impatiently.

"I'm not about to encourage you fools."

With an aggravated huff, Red climbed across the table, kneeling right over the plates and cutlery to tap his fist against Stretch's, leering as he did, "i won't leave you hanging, honey bun."

Why that made a soft flush of orange color Stretch's cheekbones, Edge did not know. For now, he added it to his mental tally of questions that needed asked and shoved his brother back into his chair before Blue found a way for a skeleton to have an aneurism. 

Finally, it was the moment of truth. With a flourish, Blue removed the cover from the pan, revealing the glory of their lasagna and filling the air with its rich aroma. Red was openly salivating and Edge sighed quietly, pleased that it looked as glorious as it had when it was removed from the oven. Blue looked to his brother, proudly displaying their efforts before him. 

Stretch blinked, glancing at all the expectant faces around him. "uh. looks good, bro."

Silence.

"You aren't eating," Edge announced. 

"good, let someone else suffer for a change," Red muttered, barely heard over Stretch's startled protests.

"what? it's _lasagna_ , not the fucking mona lisa," he shook his head, "it's _pasta_ time you two got help."

"I think Edge may be right," Blue said, testily, drawing the pan away from his brother.

"okay, okay! it's magnificent, glorious, worthy of kings and peasants alike, a masterpiece of carbohydrates. throw me a bone here, what do i have to say to get to eat?"

"I think you've said enough," Edge growled, but Blue shook his head. 

"Good enough, Papy," Blue said. He took up a knife and cut generous portions, sauce oozing through every slice. Pointedly, he served Red first, who didn't wait for anyone else before digging his fork eagerly in. Edge suspected they were lucky he'd bothered with the fork. As it was, the way he was eating, Blue might want to count his cutlery when dinner was over.

"fuckin' awesome, boss," he moaned around his mouthful, licking sauce from the fork.

"Thank you, Blue and I worked hard on it," Edge said meaningfully. He took a measured bite of his own portion, savoring it. Swallowing, he added, "We should work on more recipes together."

Blue was glowing under the praise as he finally gave his brother a portion before serving himself. For a long moment, there was only the scrape of forks on plates and the sounds of eating.

"huh. This is really good, bro."

Stretch sounded surprised and it made Edge's hackles rise. Without the hazy concealment of desire, he was abruptly reminded at how fucking _annoying_ Stretch could be. Here he was, ungratefully gobbling down food that his brother had lovingly made for him with only the barest of appreciation. Ungrateful seemed to be the word that encompassed every interaction Stretch had with his brother. 

_(It was his own ingratitude that made him wonder how Stretch could look at Red and not see how truly grateful he should be for his own brother, to have him gloriously undamaged and nothing Edge ever did could bring Red back to him that way.)_

Before he could say anything, a sharp kick against his knee startled him. He glanced up to see Blue looking at him warningly. 

"I'm glad you like it, brother," Blue said, lightly. Without a word, he nudged the plate of garlic bread in Stretch's direction and his brother took a piece almost absently, eating it between bites of lasagna. If Edge hadn't been watching, he never would have noticed the almost invisible tension easing in Blue's shoulders.

Irritation faded, replaced by narrow interest. There was more to this than his first assumption. Subtly, he watched the table as he ate, taking in details he hadn't noticed before.

Red was the first to get seconds, followed by Blue and Edge, and he devoured at least two more pieces of garlic bread besides. Stretch never took a second portion, even leaving some of the first on his plate when he pushed it back with a sigh. "oof. good stuff, both of you. maybe you should cook together more often."

Blue beamed. "Quesadillas next time! Oh, by the way, Red is going to stay in my room tonight."

He said it so casually that it took a moment to sink in and Edge almost choked on the bite in his mouth. He swallowed, looking hard at his brother, "You're what?"

Red looked miserable and mulish next to Blue's starry-eyed excitement as he clapped his hands together. "We're going to have a proper slumber party!"

That sounded just like the unwelcome opportunity to bond that Edge had wanted to avoid, "And why is that?"

"i lost a bet," Red said through his teeth.

"yeah?" Stretch had found one of his toothpicks, a brief wisp of cinnamon escaping into the air as he bit down on the end. He seemed less than concerned with his brother spending time with Red. "what kind of bet?"

Blue said, brightly, "Oh, I said that..."

"it don’t matter!" Red interrupted loudly, "i told the blueberry if he won, we'd have a slumber party."

"what would you have gotten if you won?" Stretch asked. He was more concerned than he sounded, Edge realized. It was in his body language, forcibly languid rather than truly relaxed and eye lights were sharp. 

Red shrugged, "don't really matter, either. i didn't win."

"No, he didn't, I won," Blue said gleefully, "And we're going to paint each other's nails and tell ghost stories and play truth or dare—" 

Red's cheekbones took on an unnatural greenish hue and while no good could come of this, Edge did take a little cruel joy from that, payback for dozens of nauseating teleportations.

Stretch looked pained. "bro, we don't have nails."

"Good personal hygiene habits start with a good manicure! Napstatton says so!"

Edge took advantage of their squabbling to lean down to his brother and murmur, "Don't hurt him."

"wouldn't dream of it, boss," Red grinned darkly, then louder, to Blue, "hey, think we can watch that some of that anime you mentioned?"

"Of course!"

This was a terrible idea. It was innocent and playful and terrible…and inevitable. He'd been less worried about someone getting dusted in Underfell and couldn't say if he was more concerned about Red or Blue. "If we're changing sleeping arrangements, I can sleep on the sofa."

Three pairs of eye lights turned to him. It was Stretch who scoffed, "don’t be stupid, we can share a room."

"You're suggesting I share a room with you?" A foolish question. Of course he was suggesting it. It was what all of them had assumed to begin with. 

He expected Stretch to say something lewd. Both their brothers knew, he had no reason to hold back. They’d had their dicks in each other in various places. Sleeping in the same bed was a different sort of intimacy but hardly more than they'd already had.

Instead, he got something perfectly reasonable. "you'd never get any sleep. if my legs hang off the end so will yours and that sofa has more lumps than cushion at this point. some of them are probably shaped like your brother's ass."

Edge only looked at him and Stretch rolled his eye lights. 

"oh, come on, i think we can manage to share. sleeping on that sofa is shit and you’ve already been sharing my room with red."

"He is half your height."

"and twice my width," he retorted, ignoring the way Red raised a middle finger to him. "if anything you’ll have more room."

"Besides, Red and I will need the television," Blue said brightly. 

Considering the other option was staying up to watch whatever horrifying anime these two had chosen, it wasn't much of a decision. "Fine."

"Wonderful!" Blue said gleefully. "Now that we have that sorted, I'll get the dishes washed. We are going to have so much fun, Red!"

Red's expression said he was considering either suicide or homicide as possible solutions.

"i'll help," Stretch offered, shuffling to his feet.

"You?" Edge demanded. He didn't look to see if Blue was trying to warn him off. It would be more suspicious if he said nothing. "You're going to willingly help your brother with the dishes."

Stretch shrugged. "i'll dry them at least. i'm not about to try crouching over the sink."

"And what has spurred this sudden altruism?"

"you bitch when i don't help and you bitch when i do," Stretch said with a lopsided smile, "can't ever make you happy, can i, lo—"

He bit off the word, eyes lights flicking to his brother, but he didn't have to say it for Edge to hear it.

_lover._

"c'mon, bro, the sooner we finish, the sooner you can start your slumber party, right?"

"…sure!" Blue said after a belated moment. He seemed as stunned as Edge by Stretch's offer. "I mean, yes, yes, of course! Between the two of us, we'll be done in no time."

He seemed a little lost as he gathered dishes, helplessly allowing his brother to collect the silverware and the two of them disappeared into the kitchen with them, leaving their guests at the table.

The moment the door swung closed Edge turned to his brother.

"What did you bet?"

Red snorted, "blue bet you two were banging down there. i said there was no way my bro was risking lasagna just for a piece of honey bun. nice of you to pick now to be a disappointment to me." 

"You’re so sure he won?"

Red gave him a withering look and dug into his pocket for his phone. He held it up, the stark display showing the text Edge had sent him.

_GET OUT!_

"not exactly subtle, boss."

Edge crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair to glare down at his brother. "Neither are you two. Trying to get us to share a room? What are you hoping for out of this aside from your own amusement?" 

Red shrugged. "can’t vouch for the blueberry on that but i know he’s actually got plans for tonight. he already showed me the nail polish."

"We don’t have _nails_ ," Edge protested.

"don’t i know it," Red shuddered, "and me? this may surprise you, boss, but i don’t actually spend all my time coming up with ways to fuck with you."

Edge looked at him.

"okay, i spend about half my time coming up with ways to fuck with you but this ain’t one of 'em."

It sounded perfectly reasonable. It was certainly convincing. It was also a lie and Edge wasn't sure why. What did Red have to gain?

He loved his brother and, despite what he'd said, Red did not simply fuck with him, not past an easy joke or prank. 

He did occasionally do what he thought was best and fuck what anyone else thought about it.

Time would tell which this was.

* * *

There were only a few dishes to wash. Blue refused to allow any pile up in his kitchen, which left only the plates and cutlery from dinner. Easy to wash and dry for a single monster. 

But Stretch was a creature of his word and he diligently dried each item after Blue rinsed it. Putting them away seemed past his level of commitment and Blue waited for the last plate to be set in the dish drainer before he turned to his brother, brow ridges raised.

"What is it, brother?" he asked bluntly. With Stretch it was better to be straightforward. Oh, he'd dance and dither around the answer but eventually, he came to the point. 

Eventually. 

Stretch spent too long a moment hanging up the dishtowel, making a point to drape it perfectly straight for it to dry properly. A detail that Blue would have seen to but that Stretch shouldn't care for in the slightest. 

Blue waited silently, not offering the out he knew his brother would snatch up eagerly. Papyrus had asked to come in here and Blue wasn't going to make it easy for him to sabotage his own attempt; it was up to him to say something or not.

After a moment, Stretch fumbled for his lighter, flipping the silver metal through his knuckles meditatively. "the closet thing was inspired, you know," Stretch said conversationally.

"Well, I only came up with the closet," Blue said, lightly, "It was Undyne who helped me figure out how to get you in it—"

"yeah, me and the edgelord aren't the easiest guys to lock up. it was a unique take on an old trope, bro, i admit it," Stretch dropped his lighter on the counter and rubbed a knuckle between his sockets. "so was getting stuck in a snowstorm. and now slumber parties. you know, i'm glad you're enjoying those romance novels alphys lent you, but you need to stop it."

"Stop what?" Blue asked, eye lights widening with confusion.

"sans," Stretch said, low, and Blue flinched. "i mean it. we'll be done with the machine by tomorrow. when they go home, you stop. deal?"

Forlornly, Blue looked up at him. The stars in his eye lights faded, leaving him with plain dots, "Papy—"

"i _need_ you to stop."

"I just want you to be happy, brother." Blue wrapped his arms around his brother's hips, burying his face into his t-shirt, worn soft by so many washings. He smelled like the soap Blue used, like himself. Like home.

"i know," Stretch rubbed his knuckles gently over his brother's skull, "but bro? if you want a miracle, you'd be better off asking for a pony."

Blue tipped his head up and gave his brother a wobbly smile. "I wouldn't have anywhere to keep it. Besides, it's enough trouble keeping you fed and watered."

"oh, come on, there are houseplants that need more maintenance than me."

"That's a good thing for you. The only houseplants I can keep alive are plastic ones."

Stretch crouched down and gave Blue a hug of his own. He buried his face into his brother's shoulder and his grip was briefly painful. Blue closed his sockets and leaned into his embrace. 

He forced himself to let go when his brother drew away. "c'mon, bro, get your sleepover kicked off. and if you're gonna do popcorn, make sure your nails are dry first."

"of course!" Blue said brightly. "Napstatton references that exact thing in his '101 Ways to Have an NTT Sleepover!'"

Stretch snorted, "i bet he does," He snagged his lighter from the counter, "hey, i'm gonna have a quick smoke before i head to bed, okay? have fun with red tonight. try not to hurt him."

Blue nodded happily, his grin firmly in place. He didn't let it fade until his brother vanished from view. For a moment, he covered his face with both hands and breathed. Four counts in, eight counts out, again. Again. Until he could straighten up, nodding to himself, and the stars of his eye lights came back into focus.

He took a moment to put the dried dishes away; a place for everything and everything in its place, the ease of order for the unanimated. Dishes and books and socks; things were easy to deal with.

By the time he went back into the main room his grin was back, cheery and bright. It only widened at Red's miserable expression and he considered what color of polish would suit Red best. Or worst. Either option would bring its own enjoyment and Blue was planning on enjoying this thoroughly. 

One of them should.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepovers and bonding. Edge is thrilled, if dreading it with all his being can be considered thrilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of cherryberry in this chapter, plus an unnamed pairing.

* * *

Edge did not jump when Stretch abruptly appeared in the bedroom. He was well accustomed to Red blinking in and out whenever he wanted and having a skeleton twice his brother's height wink into existence behind him did not startled him.

He certainly didn’t unconsciously form a sharpened bone construct and quickly dissipate it before Stretch noticed.

Not that Stretch was paying him much attention. The smell of smoke lingered around him and at his feet the edges of his pajama pants were darkened with damp. He raised a hand in vague greeting, his eye lights flicking disinterestedly over Edge's choice in his sleepwear. The bedclothes were already turned down and Stretch sprawled out on the sheets with a sigh, draping an arm over his eye sockets in a thin barrier against the lamplight. 

After Blue had returned to the living room without his brother, already burbling excitedly about anime and nail polish, Edge had quickly made his excuses and gone upstairs for the night. Much as he wasn't keen on Blue and Red spending a night bonding, neither did he actually want to _see_ it. 

Plausibly deniability, if only for his own sanity, 

"just so you know, you aren’t getting laid," Stretch said without moving his arm.

"What are you going on about now?" Edge asked absently. He was carefully shining his boots with an old rag, paying close attention to the toes. The constant exposure to snow wore out the leather too quickly if he didn't keep them clean and well-polished. 

"i’m just sayin'. you aren't getting laid, not when my brother is right next door with these thin-ass walls."

The tin of polish was open on the desk and Edge dabbed a little more on his rag, the sharp smell overpowering the lingering odor of smoke. "I'm sorry and what was I doing that made you think I was attempting to get laid?"

"oh, please," Stretch snorted, gesturing down the length of his body with one vague hand. "who wouldn't want this? feel free to lust as long as you like but i have a five-minute limit on staring."

"I wonder sometimes if you even have the ability to think before you speak," Edge mused. 

"i'm thinking plenty, lover, and what i am thinking is, you aren't getting laid."

"You don't say. I think I'm getting the message; I'm not going to get the sex that I haven't even asked for."

Gleaming boots set aside, Edge stood and considered his options. Downstairs was not a punishment he was willing to inflict on himself, not when he could already hear the strains of anime music even through the door. He wasn't tired enough yet to sleep but the desk chair wasn't particularly comfortable to sit and read. If he were with Red, he'd simply lay in bed, unconcerned about disturbing him. Chances were that Stretch slept just as deeply as his brother and if Edge were bothering him, he would certainly have no trouble making it known. 

Stretch was half-sprawled over the mattress, exactly as Red was wont to do. So much for extra room. Only, Stretch was spread out on the furthest edge of the mattress, far from the wall.

Frowning, Edge nudged him with his foot. "Move over."

Stretch lifted his arm enough to glare out at him with one eye light. "um, no?"

Edge took a deep, slow breath. "There isn’t enough room for me, move over."

"there is room for you," Stretch retorted. He lowered his arm, rising up on his elbows to glare at Edge. "i know there is because I left room for you." He jerked his chin to his left. "it’s right there."

"That’s by the wall."

"yeah, it is, good work there, detective. sherlock holmes should add you to his speed dial."

"I don’t sleep by the wall," Edge said with thin patience. "I sleep there. Move over."

"actually, you don’t sleep here because i am sleeping here. i was here first."

Edge grit his teeth, biting out, "I can’t sleep by the wall."

For a moment, he thought Stretch was going to argue further, digging his heels in stubbornly, and if that were the case nothing was going to move him but an earthquake or physical force, neither of which were options to Edge. That was just fine; it wouldn’t be the first time Edge had slept on the floor. He was already bracing himself to brave the downstairs for another blanket when Stretch's sockets narrowed, studying him. He glanced between the wall and the door, and then, with a greatly put upon sigh, he scooted over.

"happy?" Stretch grumbled. He curled up smaller than he had before, close to the wall.

"Thank you," Edge said curtly, settling on the mattress. He retrieved his current book from his inventory and adjusted the pillows so that he could sit up comfortably.

"no problem, control issues."

He was only a few pages into his book before Stretch shifted restlessly next to him, catching his attention. Hardly another minute passed before he was shifting again, the blankets rucking up around him as he flopped onto his back with a sigh.

"What’s wrong?" Edge didn't look up from the page.

"eh, it's just, i usually read to my bro before i go to bed," Stretch mumbled. He seemed embarrassed about it, although Edge couldn't fathom why. It wasn’t as though Edge could be less impressed by him.

"Oh, yes? Missing out on Fluffy Bunny Has a Picnic?"

"actually, we’ve been reading 'Set Theory and the Continuum Hypothesis of Mathematics,'" Stretch said cheerfully, "puts him out like a light."

"I can understand why. The title alone made me drowsy."

"see, that right there is how you're contributing to the world's sarcasm shortage," Stretch rolled onto his side, propping his chin on a hand. "you know, i could tell you a story." 

"Please don't."

"once upon a time there was this skeleton. really cool guy, i’m talking awesome."

"I'm begging you."

"hot, too. just this awesome hot skeleton, living his life. everything was going great and then he started fucking this other skeleton, a real asshole."

"If you’re trying to annoy me, mission accomplished, you can stop now."

"i mean, sexy as hell, but just a serious asshole."

That was amusing enough for Edge to lower his book. "You think I’m sexy, do you." Not that Edge disagreed; he was well aware of what he looked like. In Underfell, he was a prime specimen of monster and clearly able to protect what was his, besides. A very desirable package. Even here in Underswap, he wasn't oblivious to the looks of others; beneath caution and fear were always glances of appreciation that were never as discreet as the looker assumed.

"did i fucking stutter? of course i do, i’m fucking you, aren’t i?"

Ah, sentiment. "Not currently and your taste is definitely questionable."

"okay, why don't you go ahead and leave the jokes to me and your brother, you’re going to hurt yourself." Stretch squirmed closer, settling his head into Edge's lap as he squinted up at the book, trying to read the title upside down. "what are you reading, anyway?"

"It's called 'Water for Elephants.' It’s not terrible."

Stretch blinked. "really? that's like…a love story or something, isn't it?"

A love story with violence and murder. Not terrible, as he'd said. "It was on your brother's shelf," Edge shrugged. "I was simply grateful for something with words."

"i have books."

"Yes, you do, and they are filled with either knock knock jokes, which are not prime reading material, or they contain something that I'm not sure can actually be considered words, not as mortals understand them. What did you expect me to be reading?"

"i dunno, something about puzzles? a hundred and one ways to shank someone without getting blood on your clothes?"

"If I'm leaving the jokes to you, I suggest you find a sense of humor quickly."

Stretch hummed agreeably, burrowing deeper into Edge's blanket-covered lap. "so read to me."

"What?"

"read to me," Stretch repeated patiently, "you have a nice voice."

If Edge was confident in his body's strengths, he was equally sure of his failings. His voice was harsh and sharp, gratingly so, "I do not."

"i’m the one listening, i get to decide if it's nice." 

Edge hesitated, peering over the top of his book at Stretch's upside-down face. There was nothing mocking there, no indication that he was about to step into some sort of verbal trap. "I'm halfway through the book."

"i'm not really in this for the literature, lover. now read to me."

Haltingly, he did. When no mocking or insults came, he managed to relax into it, absorbed again in the story. Somewhere around describing the menagerie of animals, he glanced down and saw Stretch was asleep. Sockets closed and his skull nestled into his lap, one arm slung limply over Edge's femurs. 

Carefully, he reached down and stroked his fingertips over Stretch's skull, tracing his coronal sutures. He sighed sleepily, snuggling in closer, his arm briefly tightening. Edge read on in silence, absently petting, his thoughts alight with a story of love. And murder.

* * *

"you think they're fucking yet?"

Blue hummed thoughtfully, scrubbing the nail brush over Red's phalanges. It was his second time scrubbing the bones; the first time the water had been dark with filth and grease. Behind them an anime was blaring but it was more a brother-deterrent than actually taking any of their attention. "It's difficult to tell. Obviously, my brother wouldn't want to while he thinks I can hear him, but since we're downstairs, it's possible."

"yeah?" Red considered that. "i bet that my bro tops."

"Oh, please, like that's a bet?" Blue poured fresh water over soapy bones and nodded, satisfied, as it ran clear. "If the option is between lying there and not lying there, I don't need a Magic 8 ball to decide what Papy is going to choose."

"he could still be doing the dicking," Red grumbled. 

Blue rolled his eye lights as he patted Red's finger bones dry. "Yes, of course, Edge seems ever so much like the kind of monster who would prefer to 'be dicked' rather than 'dicking'" Blue said, making little quotes with his fingers. "Why, I bet that he's letting my brother…how did you say it? Get his dick wet as we speak."

"he could be. you don't know." Red watched with reluctant interest as Blue rummaged through the contents of his makeup kit. It was a rather daunting collection. A little tube was selected and when Blue squeezed a small amount onto the back of Red's hand, the lotion was white and smelled minty.

"Oh, quit sulking," Blue chided, gently rubbing the cream into each phalanx. "You're just angry you were wrong about them in the basement."

"maybe i'm just jealous. at least someone is fucking around here," Red grumbled.

Blue paused, raising one brow bone, "If that was an invitation, it wasn't very inviting."

Red gave him a slow smile, the tip of his tongue just touching the sharp edge of his teeth. "oh, sweetheart, i can be inviting."

Blue only shook his head, amused, and switched hands. "I wouldn’t think I was your type."

He shrugged, "you’re not, but i'd never say no to a handy."

"Don’t be ridiculous, I just painted my nails." He waited to give Red a moment to decide if he thought Blue was being serious. "You’re not entirely unappealing…"

"wow, thanks."

"…but I’m in a committed relationship."

That got Red's attention. "what? with who??"

Blue picked up two bottles of nail polish and held them up to the light, considering, "Maybe the next time you two visit, I’ll invite them to dinner. Maybe." 

"too ashamed to show us off? and if you pick that pink, i'll be meeting 'em at your memorial."

"Don't be so dramatic, I wasn't going to pick the pink. And no, I'm not ashamed," he shook the bottle he'd chosen briskly. "They don’t get on well with my brother."

Red narrowed his sockets. "that would be make or break for me."

"Me, too," Blue agreed, "but he and Papy manage. Generally by not being in the same room."

"this is weird," Red complained. Obediently, he flattened his hand when Blue tapped his wrist. "you're sorta...me, right? and i sure as hell ain’t seeing anyone."

"I’m not 'sorta you'," Carefully, Blue stroked the tiny brush over one fingertip. "I’m me and being yourself should be enough for anyone."

"who are you seeing anyway?" Red gave him a sly smile. "can i guess? does he _heat_ you up? Set your loins on _fire_?"

"That’s enough," Blue said, exasperated. "Quit moving or we'll have to start over."

That was enough of a threat for Red to hold very still, allowing Blue to paint each finger. "why do you want them fucking anyway?"

"Hmm?" Blue asked absently. 

"our bros," Red said patiently. He kept still, even as Blue started a second coat. "why do you even want them fucking?"

Blue was quiet for a long moment, his focus completely on even strokes of polish. Then softly, "Because Papy doesn’t have bad days."

Red frowned in confusion. "what?"

"He doesn’t have bad days. He has bad weeks or, once, a bad month, where he lays on the couch and doesn’t do anything," Blue capped the polish and set it aside. "But you know what I’m talking about, don’t you."

Red scowled, his fingers tensing but they didn't move. "you judging me for enjoying this little vaycay? 'cause i don’t usually have the fucking luxury of lying on the sofa for a week."

"No," Blue agreed softly. He selected another bottle, its contents clear. "But you do have bad weeks. You only look like me; it’s my brother's soul that’s closer to yours." 

Red didn’t deny it but instead glared at him, helplessly furious, his eye lights burning crimson.

Blue looked away. He opened the bottle in his hands and very carefully began on the top coat.

"Since you’ve been here, he’s..." Blue trailed off, smiling a little. "That day when we first met you two, my brother was a complete jackass and your brother gave it right back at him. He ranted about Edge for two days. Your brother is the first thing I’ve seen actually affect him in a long time."

"they can’t stand each other."

"So? It got him moving anyway. Besides, I think they get along better than even they think." Blue smirked. "It doesn’t hurt that your brother wears those pants. How does he even put them on in the morning?"

"pretty sure it’s magic," Red grinned. His eye lights dimmed back to their normal glow. "add in those fuck-me boots and he's a serious threat to the crotch, right?"

"Fuck, yes," Blue shook his head as Red snickered. 

"your bonefriend know you're checking out other merchandise?"

"I'm in a committed relationship, not blind," Blue said primly. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with window shopping."

Red's grin faded and he gave Blue a sober look, as serious as he’d ever seen the other skeleton. "you think your bro is...you think maybe he’d fall down?"

"No," Blue said firmly, "nothing like that. He’s always been this way and he’s all right. Mostly, he’s all right. But sometimes, he has bad weeks. He was just going into one when you two got here and look at him now. Telling terrible puns, working on the machine," Blue shrugged, "fucking your brother. He needs something to keep him occupied. And I just want him to be happy. Don’t you want your brother to be happy?"

"sure i do. but i’m not so sure stretch is gonna be the one to do it for him."

He expected Blue to be angry but he only nodded. "That’s fair. Somehow Papy manages to be the strongest and the weakest monster I know."

"strong in magic, weak in hp," Red muttered.

"That's true but it isn't what I meant. No, it's that he still gets up and keeps going. But he also doesn’t try to get what he needs." He leaned back in his chair. "There. I'm done. Don't smear it."

Red held a hand out, examining it. Somehow, Blue had managed to paint the tips of his fingers to allow for the illusion of nails, the polish smooth and glossy. His sockets narrowed suspiciously as he examined his hands closer. Somehow, the cracks and divots in his finger bones seemed…diminished, the bones a healthier white.

Blue was packing up his case, seeming not to notice as Red glared at him. "you just have to take care of everyone, don’t you?"

"I don't know what you mean." Blue beamed at him, his eye lights starry. "What's next? Truth or dare?"

"you've gotten all the truths from me that you're getting tonight, sunshine," Red grumbled. He slouched back on the sofa, careful not to smear the polish. "watch the fucking movie."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge knows this is getting out of hand. It's probably all going to end terribly. May as well enjoy the ride. 
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> ***Please read the notes at the end if you're afraid of triggers.**

* * *

Edge had no idea of the time when he woke, but the room was still dark, the light that passed for daytime in the underground had yet to rise. Disoriented, he leaned up on an elbow, gathering his bearings. 

Things came into focus with an unpleasant snap of clarity. He was in Underswap, sleeping in a room and a bed that was not his own, and next to him—

Next to him, Stretch was whimpering softly, jerking almost spasmodically. At some point in the night, he'd all but wrapped himself around Edge while they'd slept, one leg thrown over Edge's as well as an arm over his ribcage. That his own arms were around Stretch was probably nothing more than an automatic reaction to Stretch latching onto him; the other skeleton should be grateful that that had been Edge's reaction and not throwing him across the room. 

_(not that he would, not even in his sleep, his subconscious knew this soul, knew for all of his annoyance he wasn't a threat, Edge had told him he wouldn't hurt him he wouldn't)_

Light rose in the room, not the glow of morning, but bright magic. The whimpers were fading and now he could see Stretch, moving fitfully, teeth parted and the only reason he wasn't screaming was he didn't seem able to draw in any air.

Before Edge could decide if he even should wake him, much less how, the room flared with magic, dozens of jagged bone constructs filling the air, glowing blue and orange and aimed directly at them. 

Edge held very still.

A choked, gagging inhale and Stretch sat up abruptly, one socket such a deep orange it was almost red. He tried to scramble away from Edge, but between their limbs and the blankets, they were tangled together. Edge didn't touch him, not to hold him or shake him, only gave him a moment to wake further and for the terror in his sockets to fade into dawning awareness. 

He blinked, looking at Edge and then around them at the hovering bones that all but dripped with ill-intent. "fuck," he rasped out. The constructs vanished and the halo of orange magic enveloping the room vanished. "sorry, i'm…fuck."

"Do you always wake your bed partners with threats of violence?" Edge kept his voice soft. They were still touching, Stretch next to him on his back with their legs still tangled, and Edge settled a hand on his chest, felt the ragged rise and fall of his ribcage as he panted.

"heh," Stretch laughed weakly, "you know, i don't think i've ever actually slept in a bed with someone other than my bro. i'm pretty sure i've never tried to sleep-murder him before. not that he's said, anyway."

Well, that was refreshingly honest.

The utter silence was broken only by his breathing slowing and Edge felt cautious fingertips at his wrist. Not trying to move his hand, only resting on the thin bones. He wasn’t unfamiliar with night terrors; Red was prone to them, horrors of his past that Edge had little knowledge of haunting him on bad nights. Whatever lurking darkness lingering in Stretch's nightmares, Edge knew even less, but they had to be equally unpleasant. The other monster had been _terrified_. 

"What does a 'tale-verse monster have to fear?" Edge wondered aloud. 

Stretch stiffened next to him.

"I didn’t mean it like that." He hadn't. "It was a sincere question."

"yeah, i bet it was." Stretch pulled away and reluctantly, Edge let him. He could hear him moving in the darkened room and there was the sound of a window opening. The flick of a lighter and he could smell burning tobacco. A cool draft swept through the room, carrying with it a hint of smoke. How like Stretch to be both considerate and self-serving. Smoking by an open window and yet creating distance between them.

And perhaps he was only being considerate enough to smoke outside for his brother's sake, but he also didn’t know that the reason Edge hated the smell of smoke was because it made him want one. If smoking was expensive in Underswap it was worse in 'Fell and if the choice was between cigarettes and a safer home for Red, there was no choice.

It didn’t usually bother him but Stretch was always an extra layer of rawness over his nerves one way or another. Stretch's uncaring about the expense of smoking _did_ bother him; his brother deserved better, like Red deserved better but…

Blue wasn't like Red.

The unpleasant, visceral reminder jolted him. Blue wasn't like Red, Blue was like _him_ and could he say that if Red wanted cigarettes he wouldn't find a way to scrounge them for him, at least occasionally? 

Stretch looked like him but he wasn't like him; he teleported, like Red, his humor was terrible like Red…he had nightmares like Red.

"What was your nightmare about?" Edge asked abruptly and his voice was so loud in the quiet of the room that he winced.

Stretch nearly fumbled his cigarette. He caught it almost too late, taking a sharp drag and the tip glowed cherry-red through the darkness. "i don’t remember." He said it too fast, in blurred rush of smoke. "i know you think we all shit rainbows and unicorns here but it’s not like we don’t have problems." Inhale. Exhale. Hard blurts of breath. "for one, i don't shit, so we are all out of unicorns. shit out of them, heh.

"that’s the thing with you fell-verse monsters. you think murder is where it is. that's what makes you the dark side of the mirror universe, right? monsters lose hope here too, you know. they lose hope and they fall down." 

From that nightmare, it was certainly true. It didn't escape his notice that Stretch had neatly pushed past the question.

He listened as Stretch blew out a cloud of smoke. "on a completely different note, our brothers are dicks," Stretch said conversationally.

"You say that as though it should be some sort of revelation." Perhaps yesterday it would have been, for Blue at least. Red had owned that title from the earliest memory Edge had. 

Stretch chuckled, the sound oddly mirthless. It sounded more like it had been scraped raw from Stretch's throat. There was enough light filtering in from the pushed aside curtain that he could see Stretch rub a hand over his face. "you may as well go back to sleep, i'll be up for a while."

"The threat of imminent death tends to give me insomnia." 

Stretch let out another reluctant chuckle and shook his head, "please don't make me laugh about almost killing you."

"That wouldn't have killed me," Edge told him, because apparently it needed to be said. "It wouldn't have even been close. You can lack faith in my fighting skills if you like, but even you can't doubt my HP."

"if you say so," It wasn't a surprise that Stretch didn't believe him. It was definitely irritating. "bros are still dicks. neither of us signed on for a sleepover massacre. attempted massacre."

"And yet here we are." Edge moved to lean against the wall, resting an elbow on a drawn up knee. Watching Stretch smoke. "We could play a game."

That caught Stretch's attention. He paused, cigarette halfway to his mouth. "a game," Stretch said, suspiciously.

"A guessing game."

"yeah, i’m already not liking this. we actually weren't the ones having a sleepover, you know."

He did know. That much he knew, at least. "Was it something I did?"

He saw Stretch startled even through the dimness. "what?"

"Today, in the basement. I was rough with you, snowflake."

"don’t be stupid," Stretch scoffed, "not everything is about you."

"That's not an answer."

"okay, then no, asshole. come on, you didn't even scratch me, tough guy."

"Does anything I do bother you?" It felt like a concession, like giving in, but he needed to know. Stretch was eager to joke about control issues but he wasn't _wrong_. And neither was Edge if the agitated way Stretch shifted meant anything. He expected Stretch to prevaricate and avoid the question entirely. It was what Red would do, most of the time. _Most_ of the time, but there were rare moments--

"that first time," Stretch began, haltingly. "in the cabin. you called me a slut, yeah? that’s fine, it's true enough, anyway. i like sex, i sleep around." Edge could hear the smirk in his voice. "plus hot, you know. you can call me a slut all you want, lover."

He took a slow breath and let it out. "i’m not a whore, got it?"

"All right."

"i pick who, all right? i’m fucking you because i want to. i’m not for sale, not for anything. not sex, not—" his voice caught slightly. "not magic."

"Is that what you dream about?"

Stretch exhaled smoke into the cold night and flicked his cigarette butt after it. "i told you, i don’t _remember_."

Not a no. "There’s nothing wrong with being a whore. I know a few. They're earning money and protecting their families. I'm a Royal guard, I've essentially sold myself. Not for sex, but violence. Is there really a difference? I’ve sold my magic to protect my brother."

"yeah, this little share and care is not what i wanted to do tonight," Stretch fumbled out another cigarette. Edge watched the trembling waver of the flame as he lit it. "whatever sob story you’re making up for me, you can quit it. it’s not like that. i didn’t spend my tender years blowing monsters for 5g a suck. sans and i were fine. i’m just telling you, i don’t like that. i’m not like that. so just…don't." 

Stretch lied like his brother lied. Most of the time Edge could see through the veneer his brother put up, find the spoiled and blistered remains of truth beneath the glossy exterior; sometimes Red was very, very good at it. He couldn't tell which this was. 

"fuck’s sake," Stretch huffed out, irritated. "stop looking at me like that. i’m not reliving my childhood traumas, okay? i’ve known a few whores, too. nothing wrong with it. but i’m not one. i’m fucking you because i want to, not because i want something. the only thing i want from you is sex."

"So come fuck me now."

Soft laughter, raspy with smoke. "i told you, not where my brother can hear."

"But you want to."

Stretch was silent for a long moment. "yeah. i do."

"Then don't let him hear."

Edge could see the shiver run through him, "do you know how wet i am already?"

Fuck. Edge closed his sockets briefly. "Let me find out."

Stretch didn't rush, finishing his cigarette and closing the window before he came back to the mattress. 

"Take this off," Edge tugged at his pajama bottoms. "Take it all off."

He watched as Stretch pulled his t-shirt over his head. He made no attempt to be seductive, almost coltishly clumsy stepping out of his pants. The glow of his magic was almost enough to overwhelm the darkness, lighting at his pelvis and in his joints; pretty, prickly Stretch naked in front of him for the first time. Stretch's fingers twitched like he wanted to cover himself and that fractured modesty was an enticement, a goad. 

"Beautiful," Edge whispered and color flared higher, at Stretch's cheekbones. Streaks of pearly orange were already starting to trail down the insides of his femurs. "Come here."

Stretch let Edge draw him down, pushing him down on the mattress, and spreading his legs enough to let Edge get between them. Edge slid lower, needing to taste him and he bypassed the swell of his cock to move lower, lapping at the soft folds of his cunt.

"ohhh…" Broken and soft, muffled before it could carry.

His cunt was sweet, sweeter than his cock, and Edge pushed in deeper, letting its soft fluid smear his face. Explored the silky contours with his tongue and breathed in his honey-sweet musk. He wasn’t as confident in his skills at this but from the sounds Stretch was trying not to make, he was doing just fine. Stretch was trembling beneath him, stifling moans and whimpers behind his hands.

Beautiful. 

Edge drew his hands up the slickened insides of his femurs, smearing wetness. With his thumb, he slicked a line up the underside of Stretch's cock.

"Why don't you ever make a clit?" Edge asked with soft curiosity. He drew his tongue down the dripping wet slit, flicking it within. The crackle of conjured magic felt good against his tongue. He murmured against it, "Why both instead of one or the other?"

"because i like this," Stretch groaned, "fuck off, nosy, i don't ask about your junk."

Only to bite off the last word as Edge pressed two fingers inside him. He was more than slick enough, practically drenched. His hips lurched up and his hands scrabbled against the sheets, loud in the quiet room as Edge slipped in another finger, testing.

The temptation was there to spread him open, to lick at his sweet, soft little cunt until Stretch couldn't hold back the sounds, until moans were spilling out of him like water from an overflowing cup and into his brother's possibly listening ears. Tempting, but Edge was almost dizzy with wanting; anticipating the feeling of being inside him again made his mouth water and he licked the taste of Stretch off his teeth, slipping in another finger just to hear Stretch try not to make a sound. He'd called himself a slut and seemed desperate to live up to the insult, spread open four fingers wide and his pelvis rising to meet them, legs sprawled apart in obscene invitation. 

Enough. Edge pulled his fingers free with a lewd squelch, shoved his own pajama pants down and kicking them off. He could feel Stretch's eyes on him as he slicked his cock with his wet fingers. Orange magic smeared against crimson. 

"you could let me touch you this time," Stretch whispered. He didn't whine when Edge caught his wrists, pushing them down to the pillows, but he made Edge work for it. Not quite struggling but none of the easiness he'd offered before, grudgingly letting Edge hold him down. 

"No," Edge mouthed, almost soundlessly. Slowly, slowly, he pressed inside, deep and nearly frictionless. Tight, wet heat around him, a rippling clench around his cock as Stretch arched up. 

"oh," he whimpered, so softly. His wrists strained in Edge's hold. "oh, please."

Edge had never really been close enough to look at him like this. They'd only sucked each other off and the first time they'd fucked, he'd been pushing Stretch's face into the mattress. This time he couldn't help but look, their faces were only inches apart. The room was dark, the only light that of their twining magic and Stretch had his eye sockets closed, his expression tight, anguished with pleasure.

Edge ducked his head and pressed their teeth together and Stretch let out a shaky sigh, opening his mouth to let Edge lick inside, sharing his sweetness.

"come on, do it," Stretch whispered into him. "make me _feel_ you."

It was too easy to rock into him, pushing deep, a hesitation, slowly pulling back out. And again, an almost too-gentle rhythm. There was no headboard, no frame to creak. The mattress beneath them was silent. Nothing but the slick sounds of their bodies moving together, the chalky scrape of bone against bone. 

Stretch wasn’t making a sound, but Edge could tell he wanted to; all the sounds he couldn’t make coming out in the way he shifted his hips, moving restlessly against Edge. Legs wrapped around his hips like defiance, stealing the movement that his hands weren't allowed. Every flex of his wrists was a cry, every arch of his hips was a moan.

Edge could taste his own sweat, straining with the effort of going slow since Stretch wouldn't be still. More sweat was glowing between them and Stretch wouldn't hold _still_ ; an endless struggle and Edge slipped, going briefly too deep. A squeak escaped from between Stretch's clenched teeth, not pain, not pain at _all_ and Edge could feel the ripple of his cunt as he came.

Too soon, too fucking soon, and Edge grit his own teeth, riding out his tremors and the jerk of his hips, grinding their pelvises together. His cock was still hard between them and Edge wanted to reach down and touch, hold that hot length in his hand but he’d have to let go of Stretch's wrists. Not an acceptable exchange.

He waited long enough for tight clench of his cunt to ease before sliding deep into him again. Rocking inside him, ratcheting him back up, dragging him back from his plateau. Edge whispered between them, like a secret, "Is that why you like a cunt and a cock?"

"double your pleasure," Stretch whispered back, laughing silently. Only to catch on a moan, easing it into a hiss of breath as Edge shifted the angle, driving into him just as slow but harder. Forcing pleasure into him. It was still a slick, easy glide but Stretch was so hot and tight around him, it felt like his cunt was sucking him in. 

His heels were dragging against Edge's pelvis as he bucked up and Stretch was actively struggling now. Close again, already, riding the brink of too much and not enough. Edge leaned his weight onto his hands and held him down. Pulled out until just the tip was resting inside him and waited. 

It didn't take long. "let me _touch_ you," Stretch begged, voice cracking, too loud, "fuck, please, _please--_ "

"Shhhhh," Edge soothed. He slid his hand up one of Stretch's arms, twining their fingers together and pulled it up to his face against his cheekbone. He could feel Stretch shaking as he pressed a kiss into the cup of his palm, one last, gentle touch.

Then he slammed back into him, _fucked_ into him, hard and desperate and Stretch was straining under him, arching hard enough to lift them both from the mattress. Hot pleasure rolling through them both and he could feel Stretch tip over his peak, feel when he hit too much. Whimpering and struggling through his orgasm, tears limning his sockets. One wrist still twisting in Edge's grip and with his other, fingers gripping Edge's almost tight enough to crack bone, the tips digging painfully into Edge's cheekbone.

As he was coming in slick, hot spurts between them, Stretch choked out a single soft word, "papyrus!" 

His own name spoken in that _voice_.

He understood the necessity for nicknames but it made him feel like he’d lost a piece of himself, a slice of his identity, of his soul; he was the Great and Terrible Papyrus and no nickname could ever be worth as much to him.

He wondered if Stretch felt that loss, too, if he held a dimly aching void of self within.

It was a tangle in him of desperate need, aching want, reaching for _something_ and what Edge found was his own limit, coming in a hard, blinding rush, the wild spasm of pleasure jolting him. His breath hissed between his teeth almost soundlessly, lost beneath Stretch's near sob. It felt like he was coming in his soul, letting go of his frustration and anger and annoyance inside the sweet grip of Stretch's cunt around him. 

It took far too long for him to return to his senses and when he did, Stretch's mouth was against his own, almost frantic, catching Edge's startled sound between their teeth. Edge let him have the kiss, let him tangle their tongues together. He could taste the faint sweet-salt of tears. 

At some point Stretch had managed to wriggle free and had both arms around him, hands moving over him. Stealing the touches Edge hadn't allowed him before. Edge could feel his own sweat on his bones, his shirt uncomfortably damp with it. Sticky and exhausted, Edge shifted and grunted, "Let me up."

"no." Instantly, the arms around him went tight, hands gripping him hard.

That…was unexpected. "What?"

"no," Stretch said stubbornly. "you get to hold me down whenever you want. it's my turn."

He could feel the cooling splatter of come between them, fuck, seeping out around him where he was going soft inside Stretch. Both of them were messed up, fucked up, and probably leaking onto the sheets. What they could use was a shower and fresh bed linens. They could settle for a washcloth and a spare blanket. Instead, Edge relaxed back down on him, giving Stretch his weight. "Fair."

Stretch's grip stayed distrustfully tight and Edge waited, giving him time to loosen it, bit by bit, relaxing as Edge made no move to roll away. Almost hesitantly, one of his hands drifted up, his fingers gentle as he cupped the back of Edge's skull, his blunter fingertips tracing over it in an unconscious mimicry of earlier in the night. 

Edge didn't move, drowsing despite himself. He was past exhaustion, bone-deep weariness, and this was...it was…he didn't know.

But he was starting to wonder what the fuck the Fates wanted from him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains possible past prostitution and possible past child abuse. Probably not, but some skeletons aren't very good with honesty.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge wakes up in the light of day and does. not. want to think.

* * *

When he woke again, the room was filled with morning light.

Edge blinked up at the ceiling and mentally assessed his surroundings before he attempted to move. Next to him, Stretch was still sleeping, curled into Edge's side and using him as if he were a particularly sharp and boney teddy bear. Their legs were still tangled together and without the thin barrier of their pajamas, he could feel the warmth of the bone, the faint buzz of Stretch's magic pushing into his own.

It felt…it didn't matter how it felt. He needed to get out of bed, if only to make sure Red hadn't murdered Blue in a fit of slumber party induced rage.

Extracting himself was a test of cunning and patience. Stretch was not eager to give him up and made several disgruntled noises. Alongside a few enticing ones that Edge firmly ignored. He added it to the assortment of things he was ignoring, bundling it in with the smooth bones peeking out from beneath the blankets and the way Stretch's delicate hands slid over the sheets, searching for his lost source of warmth.

With an unhappy groan, Stretch rolled over and the blankets pulled down, exposing him to his pelvis where Edge could see the remnants of his own magic clinging to the pearly bone. Cruelty atop of cruelty. He gave in for just a moment, scraped his fingers lightly over it and watching his dried magic flaking off into dust. 

Stretch shivered, breaking his concentration, and Edge shook his head. Monsters with low HP tended to get chilled easily. He pulled the blanket up, tucking it around him the same way he often did with Red. Emotion bubbled in his soul, ones that were not at all reminiscent of those he felt for his brother and he added them to the growing collection of things to ignore.

His own bones were a mess of dried magic and his disgust was a perfect distraction. 

Blue was likely awake. Red was a fifty-fifty shot. He didn't want to imagine what he would look like to them right now and he was desperately in need of a shower. Much as he disliked teleportation, this was one time where he would have appreciated having the skill.

There was no choice; he'd have to risk it. 

He pulled on his pajamas and added his regular clothing to his inventory before opening the door and peering out. The living room was empty, sounds and smells rising from the kitchen. Blue was making breakfast then. Edge quickly went to the bathroom, unwilling to question this gift from the Fates. 

He didn't look in the mirror, only turned on the faucets until the water was steaming and by then the glass was fogged. At least the Swap brothers had a decent hot water heater, a testimony to Stretch's mechanical skills. Their taste in soap, or at least Blue's taste, left something to be desired. Sweet and flowery, something that Edge both couldn't and did not want the ability to name. 

If nothing else, his life had taught him how to make do with what he had and Edge scrubbed himself determinedly, ignoring the rising smell of flowers. Beneath his hands, he felt the bumps and scars from fractures over the years; his own bones were nothing like Stretch's. This one was from an ambush when he'd first taken over as the head guard in Snowdin, others scattered over him. He traced the slash on the side of his ribs; that one had almost killed him and had taught him a lesson in arrogance. Every scar was a story and a lesson. 

Stretch's bones had told him nothing and the memory of their sleekness beneath his hands was a jarring reminder; he was not of this universe and did not belong here. The smell of flowers would fade and leave the scars behind. 

He turned off the water before it ran cold, drying off and dressing. With the damp towel, he wiped at the mirror, staring at his smeared and blurred reflection. His eye lights glared red, highlighting the scar surrounding his socket. He looked for a long moment, until the condensation faded and there was only his own face staring back at him. Then he hung up the towel neatly and walked out into Underswap. 

Blue was downstairs setting the table, his smile bright and cheery. Red was already sitting with a plate looking…well. Looking like he'd survived the night. It was probably the best outcome Edge could have hoped for. 

"How did you sleep?" Blue chirped as Edge came downstairs. He placed a plate with eggs and toast in front of Edge, a bottle of tabasco sauce set thoughtfully next to it. 

As he picked up a fork, Edge remembered the nightmare, sharpened bones looming at him from the darkness, Stretch telling him not to call him a whore--

_(the sound of his own name being gasped at the sweetest height of pleasure)_

"Fine."

To call Blue's expression skeptical would be an understatement. It shouldn't be a surprise that Blue would catch him in the lie. He was used to catching his brother and Stretch was much better at it.

Edge met his gaze challengingly but Blue's willingness to interfere in his brother's life did seem to have limits.

"Well, that's good then," he said, barely faltering. Red didn't so much as look up from his plate. "Papy still asleep? Red tells me he and my brother should have the machine up and running by this afternoon."

"s'long as nothing else explodes," Red mumbled around a mouthful.

Edge and Blue exchanged a look, Blue mouthing, 'nothing else?'. By silent, mutual agreement, they didn't ask. 

"Yes, well, I'll come home a little early then to see you off!" Blue said brightly. "I need to get going, those traps won't recalibrate themselves. Edge, would you mind doing the dishes for me?"

That finally woke Red up. He blinked at Blue, looking between him and Edge in something like disbelief. Edge took a bite of eggs, the heat of the tabasco mixed with bland yolk, and met Blue's sweet, starry eye lights. 

"Of course," he said crisply.

"Wonderful," Blue said happily. "I'll see you both this afternoon!" A last wave and he was off, the door closing behind him and leaving Edge alone with his brother. 

"he's actually letting you wash the dishes," Red yawned, shoving back his empty plate as he got to his feet. "whatcha do to earn that?"

He didn't really know. "Some of us are worthy of trust."

"yeah?" Red snorted. "trying to charm the pants off that one, too? good luck with that. i spent all night with 'im and all i got was a new anime to follow and my nails painted."

Edge grabbed one of his brother's hands and looked at the tips of his fingers. Sure enough, they were daintily painted to make it appear as though he had nails, in glittery black polish. 

"You look like an idiot," Edge told him. He set his plate on top of Red's, shifting in his chair to look at his brother. Red was already dressed, down to his shoes, and Edge could imagine Blue's pinched expression when Red wore them inside the house. 

"hey, i thought it turned out pretty good," Red grinned, fluttering his fingers in the air. 

"Why would Stretch think you might try feeling him up in the basement?" Edge wasn't entirely sure he meant to ask that, the question working its way loose from the collection of things that he was ignoring this morning. 

"oh, that," Red said casually. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and rocked on his heels. "wanted to see if he was up for a fuck. looks pretty on his knees, doesn't he."

Temper flared and he had Red by the front of his shirt before it cleared through his angry haze that he was being baited. 

Red hung in his grip, both hands on Edge's wrist and a lazy smirk on his face. As casual as a good morning, as if his toes weren't barely scraping the floor. "yeah, that's what i thought."

"Shut up."

"does it help if i tell you he turned me down?" Red drawled. "i was fuckin heartbroken, really, but strangely enough, he only wanted to fuck you."

_"Shut up!"_

Red's eye lights went out, his humor fading and his voice dangerously guttural. "okay, how about you calm the fuck down? or maybe you'd like a reminder of which one of us is the older brother?" 

It was an icy deluge over the rawness of his anger. Slowly, Edge unclenched his hands and let Red fall to his feet. "No. I don't."

It was only by Sans's apathy that their world saw him as the stronger brother and Edge preferred it; it suited their purposes. For one was the matter of HP; it was far safer for attacks to head in Edge's direction, and for another Sans cared about very little about anything that didn't directly relate to the two of them. If they actually fought, truly fought, Edge knew which one of them would win. He also knew neither of them would be unscathed, in one way or another.

None of that was more important than the simple fact that he didn't _want_ to fight his brother. Not over this, not over anything. 

The door to the bedroom opened, startling them both.

Stretch didn't even look downstairs, all but mummified in the blanket. Draped as he was, he looked more like some sort of bed monster than a skeleton. He mumbled something that probably shared consonants with the words good morning, shuffled his way to the bathroom and shut the door. If he could have been sure he wouldn't have ended up in someone's lap, he probably would have simply taken a shortcut.

The unexpected interruption snapped the thread of tension and left Red looked bemused, his eye lights fading back in. He studied Edge like he might one of his projects, like he might that abomination of a machine downstairs, as if searching for the best place to begin taking him apart. 

"i wanted to see what he’d do," Red said, and there was rare, precious honesty in those soft words. 

"Sans—"

"i wanted to see what he’d do," Red repeated stubbornly. "i like stretch, i told you, but i kinda like you better." He looked up at Edge with narrowed sockets, "why are you even asking about this? i barely felt him up. he’d get more out of bumping into someone on the road. it wasn’t even a thing. he called me a dick, i agreed, and we moved right on. two minutes later he was cracking a joke about how many engineers it takes to change a fucking lightbulb. none, because we don’t have a fucking instruction manual." He tilted his head, curiously, "did you really think i hurt him?"

"No." _Maybe._

Red's sour grin spoke volumes, "eh, i like stretch, he's a lazy piece of shit, but so what? So am i and it hasn't stopped you from lo—"

"Stop," Edge said, low, and he could feel magic crawling down his arms, flaring in his eye. 

Red fell silent, waiting, just this side of smirking. The stupid bastard not even flinching from him. Red never did have very good survival instincts. 

They’d been out of Underfell too long.

"Don’t mess with him again."

Red didn't respond to that either way. He cocked his head, studying his brother. "you two are getting awfully chummy after only three days of fucking."

There was nothing to say to that.

Red blew out a long breath, rubbing a knuckle between his sockets, "really, boss? the honey bun?" He shook his head, saying softly, almost to himself, "okay. okay. papyrus?"

Edge barely kept himself from flinching. He hadn’t heard Sans say his full name in years. Always boss or very, very rarely, in private, Paps. His full name from the two people least likely to say it, both in one day.

"it’s okay, you know. fuck, it’s better if it’s someone here. 'least you know he’s safe, where the fuck could be safer?"

This…whatever this was, from Red was too much to stand. "Get the machine fixed. We need to get home."

"you know we're working on it," Red shrugged. "this afternoon. s'weird, you'd think you'd be happy your fucktoy doesn't want to sleep with someone else." An equal measure of crude and cruel, testing him. 

Edge drew in a long breath, let it out. "You are hardly as simple as someone else, Sans," he said dryly. "I'm sending Blue a picture of you sleeping in his pajamas." His brother's eye lights shrank and Edge added, mercilessly, "You're drooling in it. I can't say for certain but I'm fairly sure it's adorable."

"great, that puts you back into the running of which brother is the biggest asshole. good on you, competition is fierce this year." 

They both went quiet as Stretch walked out of his bedroom door for the second time, dressed and showered but seeming no more awake for it. He nearly stumbled down the stairs, pausing on the last step to give both of them a jaundiced look. 

He was wearing track pants again and a zippered hoodie hanging open over a black tank top that exposed far too much sternum and clavicle. Edge hadn’t really been aware that a collarbone could be shapely but here was Stretch proving it.

"wow, this doesn't look ominous or suspicious at all. seems like a lot of something i don't want to interrupt," Stretch mumbled. "i'm still gonna, i'm hungry. go fight outside or somethin'"

"it ain't that ominous," Red snorted. "boss just wants us working on the machine asap. i'm ready to get home myself, the condiments you have in this 'verse are a fucking crime."

"your face is a crime," Stretch yawned, earning an eye roll and a middle finger. "asap is effective after i eat."

Blue had left a covered plate on the table for him and Stretch dropped into the chair before lifting the lid. Perfectly over-easy eggs sprinkled with salt and pepper lovingly cradled golden toast glistening with butter. The entire plate was crafted like a love letter to early morning hunger.

Stretch picked up a piece of toast and crammed it into the eggs, yolks bursting and smearing the bread yellow before he munched it down. Edge stared, gruesomely fascinated. It was like watching a nutritional murder. Still chewing, Stretch reached for a glass of water, his sleeve riding up and Edge caught his breath. There was a bruise circling the bones of his wrist, faint but visible. 

He and Red were both more than capable healers so if Stretch was bruised, he'd left it there on purpose.

_(c'mon, control issues, give it to me. i’m all yours)_

Edge swallowed and looked away, glanced down unwillingly to see Red noticing, his brow ridges climbing upward. He didn't care to think too much about what his brother might do with this new knowledge. 

Under his breath, Red murmured, "i'll be done by this afternoon whether or not he helps me. might wanna sneak in a little morning delight while you can."

"Shut up," Edge muttered back but there was no heat in it. 

"never knew watching me eat was such a good show," Stretch said dryly. He slouched back in his chair, desecrating another piece of toast. "you guys want me to throw in a song and dance while i'm at it?"

"you gonna strip too?"

"not before noon."

Red grinned and shook his head, "think i'll wait for the lunch special then. come down when you're done, let's get this hunk of junk finished, punk."

Stretch snorted. "That wasn't even worth a thumbs up."

"More like finger-lickin' good," Red leered.

Stretch sighed and held out a fist for Red to bump as he walked past.

The door clicked shut quietly behind him, leaving the two of them alone. Wordlessly, Edge gathered the empty plates, taking them to the kitchen to rinse in the sink. It was sized more for Blue than him, and he'd end up sitting on the floor to wash them but there was a certain pleasure to the knowledge that Blue was going to allow him to help. A silent acknowledgment of trust earned. Of course, he'd need to wait until Stretch was finished--

Pretty, prickly Stretch, sitting out there with soft bruises that Edge had given him. It made him want to search for more, to push up that tank top and—well. It was entirely too tempting to take his brother's advice. When Sans started making sense, he thought sourly, things were about to go to shit. 

The things he wasn't thinking about were piling up, battering at the door in his mind, but it didn't matter. 

Because no matter what his brother said, he couldn’t keep this.

He already had Red, had his brother. If he asked too much of the universe, it might take away what he already had. 

He couldn't keep it, but for just this brief, borrowed moment, he’d had it. And now it was time to give it back. Because he could give it back. 

He could. 

He left the dishes to soak in the sink and went back out into the living room, ignoring the ongoing food massacre Stretch was enacting. He settled on the sofa, retrieving his book from his inventory. If he spent the rest of the morning on it, he'd finish it before this afternoon. 

Finally, Stretch pushed his plate aside with a sigh. Edge expected him to follow his brother downstairs, possibly with a little snark or flirtation on his way out the door.

Instead, Stretch walked to the other side of the table, leaning back against it on his elbows, languid and loose. Three days ago Edge wouldn’t have even considered how utterly fuckable he looked. Now he couldn’t see anything else. 

From the corner of his eye Edge saw him idly scratching at his hip, his tank top rucking up to show a hint of clean, white bone. The bruise on his wrist flirted at the edge of his sleeve.

What he wanted was to lick those bruises, push Stretch down on his knees and see him look up at him with that smirk shining in his eye lights. 

He wanted to bend Stretch over the table and hold his hands behind his back, listen to the sounds he made, sweet and achingly desperate. 

He didn’t move. 

Red was right. Three days of fucking and he’d lost all perspective. His magic burned with his refusal to let it settle into his pelvis and Edge focused on the page, words blurring in his vision. 

Stretch's stare prickled. "What?" Edge snarled when Stretch only looked at him. 

"not a thing," Stretch shrugged. "well, maybe one little thing. what were you two fighting about?" His tone was idle. His eye lights weren't.

"We weren’t fighting." It sounded feeble even to him, too many bad lies in too short a time. 

"sure you weren't," Stretch shook his head. "when i saw you two downstairs, i said to myself, now that right there is a perfect example of the rewards of brotherly love. you didn’t look at all like you were trying to decide how many times red would bounce if you threw his ass into a wall. no, no, don’t tell me, none of my business. but if you dust him in the house, you get to vacuum."

His hackles rose instantly. "Don’t—" he snarled

Stretch immediately held up his hands defensively, "hey, hey, i get it. no jokes about dusting the bros."

"No jokes," Edge said curtly. He heard enough of that from Red.

"it’s cool, i get it. it’s not very funny," Stretch said, softly, "not much of a joke. now, his _face_ on the other hand—"

"Oh, please."

"now that’s hilarious," Stretch grinned.

"There’s the bad humor we all know."

"know and love," Stretch agreed cheekily. "your bro is waiting for me. see ya, lover."

Stretch meandered towards the door, shoving his feet into his shoes without tying them. Cold air wafted in as he went outside and Edge waited, listening, for the muffled sound of the basement door opening and closing.

The moment he heard the dull thud, he had his hands on his belt, opening it and jerking down his zipper. Just the feel of his own hand around his cock made him groan, harsh and thick, working himself with quick, rough strokes. He was already leaking, wetness running over his knuckles and he didn't relent, kept it almost too hard, almost painful, the fingertips of his other hand scraping against his leg. 

Remembering the way he tasted, the way he sounded--

_papyrus!_

"Hngh!"

Edge barely had the presence of mind to pull a bandana from his inventory to spare his clothing as he came in quivering, wet burst, jolting with the rush of it, shuddering and trembling, sinking back into the lumpy comfort of the sofa. He sat there, panting raggedly, loose-limbed and sweat-damp.

With a grimace of disgust, he shoved the bandana back into his inventory. He'd deal with it later. His hands were still trembling as he did up his pants and he rubbed one over his face, smelling the musk of his own magic. 

Fuck.

He’d thought from the beginning he was going to lose his mind here. This was not the way he’d expected. They needed to get home. A week away and he felt like the Fates had picked him up and shaken him to see what would fall loose, like cruel children careless with their toys. 

It was almost done, Edge told himself. This afternoon they were leaving and when they were back in Underfell, he would return to the status quo.

His book had fallen carelessly to the side, one page bent beneath it, and Edge picked it up and ran a hand over it to smooth it. A tiny droplet of magic he’d missed fell from his knuckle to the page, a blot of crimson against stark white and he stared at it, at the smear of redness and everything it represented. 

Blue hadn’t burned the puzzle, of course he hadn't, not when every useful thing could be bartered. Edge wondered if he could persuade him to make an exception for this book.

If not, he was tearing out the page and fuck it. Fuck everything. He had dishes to wash.

* * *

"so. i’m sorry about yesterday," Red said casually. He was finishing with the main circuit board, his glasses perched precariously over his nasal aperture. Once they had this installed, they'd be ready for testing. In theory, anyway. 

In reality, Red couldn't be certain of fuck-all where the machine was concerned, but hey, may as well pretend to be positive. Positive to positive, negative to negative, the only polarity they got out of this piece of shit was direct current right to fucked up. 

By his feet, Stretch froze. Carefully, he set down his screwdriver and backed out of the machine, looking up at Red with too-bright eye lights. "what the fuck did your brother say to you?"

Well, now.

"nothin'," Red said, all earnest sincerity. "all honesty, sometimes i just like to apologize when i'm a dick." He could see the stiff tension in Stretch's shoulders, added it in to the faint bruises circling his wrists, and this, ah, this was too good to waste. He might not have the formal training that Sans and Stretch had but Red knew math and this was a formula he could follow.

"you absolutely don’t." Stretch said flatly. He got to his feet, tall and towering, and no kind of fucking threat as far as Red was concerned. "you take being a dick to a fine art. when we finally get to the surface, private collectors are gonna fight for the rights to your dickishness. so what did he say?"

Red shrugged. "i got nothing for you, honey bun. just glad you seem to be forgiving me for not fucking you."

He grunted in surprise when Stretch gave him a shove away from the table. Red let him; Stretch wasn't gonna hurt him and he had to admit, he was pretty fucking curious where this was going.

"yeah? and what if i changed my mind?" Stretch raised his voice, shouting up to the ceiling, "oh, take me, red, fuck me like an animal, harder, harder! oooohhhh, yes, yes, yes!!"

Something upstairs fell over with a muffled bang.

Oh, they were both probably gonna pay for that. Red grinned. He couldn't wait. He held out a fist for Stretch to bump. "asshole."

Stretch knocked his fist against Red's, loud and rough. "don’t forget it."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge can have one last time, can't he? Surely that won't affect anything at all.

* * *

Edge was going to kill them. 

Stretch, his brother, it no longer mattered. Whoever walked through that door first, Edge was going to kill. Murder was on the lunch menu today, replacing stripping as the Chef's special. 

He'd been washing the dishes, the familiar repetitiveness of it soothing when—

" _oh, take me, red, fuck me like an animal, harder, harder! oooohhhh, yes, yes, yes!!_ "

The heavy pan had fallen from his hands and either it was the grace of the Fates or they simply weren't paying enough attention to toy with him that it missed his foot. Edge didn't trust them enough to assume either way.

His magic, which had been calming from his quick session of self-care and the peaceful monotony of chores, flared back to life, settling heavily in his pelvis. He stood silently in the kitchen, straining to hear. Nothing but silence. Whatever they were doing wasn't loud enough to penetrate through the floor…

…using the word penetrate was not helping.

Edge ground his teeth. Little bastards. They weren't, he knew they weren't; even if he didn't quite trust Red not to pull something simply to mess with him, he didn't believe that Stretch would. 

The knowledge did nothing to settle the heat in his pelvis.

He chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the dishes. He'd be damned if he was going to jerk off in every room of the Swap brothers' home. By the time he was finished, plates wiped dry and carefully put away, it had diminished somewhat, enough that when he returned to the living room, he was able to focus on his book. 

He was settling into another chapter of violent romance when the door slammed open. Perhaps it was a sign he was growing too accustomed to this 'verse that he wasn't automatically on his feet, magic summoned and ready to deal with any threat. Instead, he sat with his book and watched Stretch dart into the room and up the stairs without so much as a wave, faster than he was used to Stretch moving. He dashed up to his room and there was the sound of items being shuffled around, then back downstairs with some device in his hand. 

His hoodie was still unzipped, his tank top showing a wealth of delicate white bone, those shapely clavicles. Exposed so that anyone at all could see him, showing off while he was alone in the basement with Edge's brother. 

Edge waited until he was nearly to the door before raising a languid hand and turning his soul blue. It was gratifying to hear Stretch's startled yelp as he flailed, his heels dragging against the floor as Edge pulled him back. 

"what the…hey!" Stretch sputtered, grunting in surprise as Edge yanked him down to sprawl across his lap. He blinked up at him with wide sockets. As if he had any innocence to him, as if Edge hadn't already seen what he looked like when he came. "hey, uh, i just needed my voltage meter."

"Are you two working hard down there?" Edge asked silkily. He took the device away and put it on the coffee table before he settled a knuckle beneath Stretch's chin, gripping it with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up. 

Stretch smirked and any pretense of purity was lost. His voice dropped lower, to that whiskey-sweet husk that Edge was getting far too familiar with. "oh, yeah, harder and deeper and more, more, more."

 _Bastard_. "And what, pray tell, do you two think you're trying to pull?"

"heh, pray tell?" Stretch's smirk widened to a grin and Edge sighed inwardly. "nah, i'm not falling _pray_ to that one."

"Stop."

"i know the two of us might have _prayed_ around.

"Please."

"but your bro was just _praying_ a joke on you."

Stretch was giggling in his lap and it struck Edge that somehow he managed to be even prettier when he was smiling. He smelled faintly of smoke, probably caught a quick cigarette on the walk from the basement to the house. His hoodie was sliding off his shoulder and everything about him was an enticement, a goad. 

If he hadn’t wanted to see Edge, he would have teleported to his room.

"Then you should _pray_ it safe," Edge told him dryly. "And stop."

That stopped the giggling, briefly, Stretch staring at him. Then he threw back his head and laughed. 

Edge had seen him smirk, seen him chuckle. He'd never actually seen him laugh. Not really, not like this. The warm flush of orange in his cheek bones, the way it made his eye lights sparkle with mirth. Stretch was too pretty, too tempting, too…too…

Well, shit.

One last time, he told himself. Just this time. 

Edge twisted, pushing Stretch to the lumpy sofa and moving to settle between his legs. "My brother told me to get some morning delight but it’s closer to afternoon."

Stretch shifted to let him, "skyrockets in flight," he sang, Edge looked at him blankly. "seriously? it’s the song that comes from."

"Do you ever shut up?" Edge asked idly. He could feel the heat at Stretch's pelvis through the layers of their clothing.

"i don’t know, you seem to like it when i’m noisy." His voice was a touch rougher, whiskey shot through with ice. 

"Noisy, yes, wordy, no."

Before he could offer another word, Edge pressed their teeth together, pushed his tongue against Stretch's. Cutting off the words but the sounds remained, earnest and sweetly wanting. Pretty, prickly Stretch, smiling into his kisses. 

The sofa was too small for both of them, Edge cramped up on his knees, his feet hanging over the arm. He didn't give the slightest damn, getting a hand beneath Stretch's tank top to lightly trace the smooth lines of his ribs. Too lightly it seemed, Stretch squirmed, a huff of laughter escaping him as he pulled away from Edge. 

"wait, wait," Stretch struggled a little, half-laughing, "let’s go upstairs."

"Don’t you dare take a shortcut!"

"wouldn't do that to you, control issues. we can walk."

"No." Edge managed to find an angle that allowed him to slip his hand down the front of Stretch's pants, fingers pressed to his already formed cunt. Slickness greeted him and Stretch made a soft, startled sound. 

"oh!...but…wait…we can't…"

Edge highly doubted Red was interested in seeing what was taking Stretch so long. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd deliberately sent Stretch upstairs just to see what Edge would do, a different sort of experiment, the little bastard. 

Edge had his own experiment in mind and the bedroom would put them too far away for what he intended.

"Is this all it takes to get you worked up?" Edge asked lazily. He slipped two fingers inside, curling them, and Stretch whimpered, his hands fumbling to grip Edge's wrist.

"oh, please—"

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Edge whispered. He worked his fingers in him, tipping his hand to let his palm rub against the length of Stretch's cock. Stretch made a creaking sort of sound, shocked and needy, his knees practically falling open, giving Edge more room to settle in. "Want me to come on you, send you back to my brother with my come dripping down your ribs?"

Stretch looked up at him with wide sockets, eye lights dilated. In need, in shock, Edge couldn't be sure. He closed his sockets and took a long, harsh breath, opened them and there, yes, that sharpness matched with a smirk, Edge could cut himself against that razor-thin smile. 

"so do it."

Edge pulled his fingers free with a wet sound, almost too roughly. It took barely a moment to yank Stretch's pants down far enough for him to kick them off one foot, didn't give him a chance to free the other. He pulled Stretch's leg over his shoulder, spreading him wide, and jerked open his own belt. The easing pressure made him take a sharp breath of relief and he rubbed the head of his cock over slick folds until it glistened.

"fuck!" Stretch jerked. "don't tease, you asshole! just do i-it---!" His voice broke, caught on a hiccough of surprise as Edge shoved into him, pushing in to the hilt. 

Tight, perfect heat, somehow he always forgot just how _tight_ Stretch was, gripping him in slippery perfection and tearing at his control. For once, Stretch seemed as lost as he was. His hands were over his head, fingers twisting desperately into the cushions, scrabbling for a handhold. His sleeves were riding up and Edge could see the shadow of those bruises, bruises that he had left. Bruises that Stretch had kept. 

He bucked his hips hard, almost involuntarily, and Stretch let out a moan, more vibration than sound. Squirming and close to struggling, he had no leverage, one leg caught over Edge's shoulder and the other tangled in his pants, still wearing an untied shoe.

"fuck," he whimpered, his femur scraping against Edge's clavicle, bone rough against bone. Edge looked down at him, drinking in the sight. Pretty, yes, fucking beautiful, a soft sheen of sweat rising on his skull, his expression almost pained, contorted in a grimace of pleasure. His tank top was alternating between exposing and concealing, flashing enticing hints of bone. 

Stretch's mouth dropped open as Edge moved in him, a low cry escaping. Edge remembered their first time, remembered pressing Stretch's face into the sheets. He couldn't imagine denying himself the sweetness of his mouth again, his expressions; watching the swell of rising pleasure racking him, wrecking him. 

Perfect.

He kept a grip on Stretch's tibia, holding him open as he rocked into him. They'd never done this so clearly in the light and Edge dropped his gaze, watching the slide of his cock into him, crimson gliding into a honey-orange cunt. Almost obscured by Stretch's cock, heavy and rising from his pubic symphysis, leaking against his tank top. 

Edge kept up the rhythm, hard and relentless, fucking little noises out of him as he leaned in close to whisper, low, "Say my name."

"edge," Stretch whimpered, "edge, you…"

"No," Edge said harshly. He jerked his hips roughly, burying his cock into Stretch and listened to his wordless moan. "Say my name."

"ah! ah, please, edge—"

Edge stilled, holding deep inside him. Let him squirm and whimper, hips arching as he tried to get movement, friction, anything. He reached up with his free hand, fingers circling Stretch's wrist, and pressed his thumb to the bluish tint of the bruises.

"Say my name," he whispered.

Stretch's eye lights flared with hazy realization. His cunt went tight, a rippling clench around him as if he'd almost come, and Edge had to bite back his own groan at the pressure. "papyrus."

Perfect. Edge rocked in hard. Hitched him up higher and the tilt of Stretch's hips made the angle even better, let him in a fraction deeper. "Louder."

Stretch's voice was frantic and raw, "papyrus…ah! pap—papyrus, please, please!" 

"Louder," Edge ground out. The sound of their bones clanking together almost overshadowed it but Stretch's voice carried over it, a desperate shout.

" _papyrus_!"

He came hard to the sound of his own name, too-loud, probably echoing into the basement and the sour satisfaction of the thought of Red hearing it tainted his orgasm, driving it harder. He didn't stop, fucking into him hard and fast, his cunt so gorgeously wet, and Stretch was shaking, tensing beneath him, arching up as much as he could against Edge's weight. He was soundless when he came, his cock untouched and still spilling a patter of hot magic over his tank top in slick bursts.

It was more than he could manage to not sag down on Stretch, breathing in the smoggy, magic-drenched air between them in heavy gulps. Stretch was still shaking, wincing as he tried to pull his leg off Edge's shoulder. Edge held on a moment longer just to feel that quiver tighten into almost discomfort, then relented and let him go.

"you really get off on making me yell my own name?" Stretch grumbled. He grimaced at the state of his clothes, squirming away from Edge and wobbling to his feet. Edge fastened his pants and leaned back, taking in sight of him with deep satisfaction, still fucking pretty and utterly _used_. 

"To begin with, you weren't yelling anything," Edge said lazily. His own voice was still raw. "You were whimpering, at best. Second, no, I don't. I get off on hearing you say _my_ name."

"yeah, you do," Stretch murmured, appreciatively. Their eye lights caught and held and for a moment they simply looked at each other, the silence not quite comfortable and yet…

Edge looked away first, making a show of searching for his fallen book. He was leaving, this afternoon, they were leaving, and this was one last fuck and payback for their antics in the basement. 

It meant nothing. It couldn't.

Stretch seemed to realize the moment was over. He finished straightening his clothes, zipping his hoodie over his damp tank top. He'd only just picked up his device from the coffee table when the door swung open. Edge expected to see his own brother and was surprised when Blue stepped inside instead. 

Stretch whirled around, clutching his voltage meter to his chest like a shield.

"Good afternoon," Blue said brightly. As if nothing could delight him more than seeing Edge and Stretch together with a faint haze of used magic still hanging in the air. "I was expecting you to be working on the machine, brother."

"i was…i am…" Stretch stammered. He was shifting from foot to foot, anxious enough that Edge raised mental eyebrows. Catching Stretch as less than his normal lazy, sarcastic self was always a treat but he'd never seen him like that before with Blue. 

Blue was taking off his boots, carefully wiping off the snow and grime with a cloth before lining them up on the mat. "You and Red are almost done, aren't you?"

"yep!" Stretch said agreeably. He fumbled into his pocket, playing with his lighter, "i was just…we're testing right now and i needed my voltage meter…so i was going back downstairs…anyway, you're home early!"

Edge leaned back on the sofa and watched them. He couldn't believe he ever thought Stretch was a competent liar; his cheekbones were so bright he was almost neon. What he didn't quite understand was why he was still here; Stretch had never had any compunction about leaving in the middle of a conversation before, any manners he had seemed more like an afterthought than a way of life. 

"I told Alphys our houseguests are leaving today and she let me leave early," Blue said cheerily. "Oh, but today was fascinating from a training aspect! To begin with—"

Blue chattered on, seemingly oblivious to his brother's increasing discomfort. Why Stretch didn't simply teleport…Edge's gaze dropped to the device in Stretch's hand and realized…he couldn't. How many times had he heard Red complaining about delicate equipment being unable to withstand teleportation? It had taken him three tries to come up with a case to protect his phone so he could carry it with him and Stretch had obviously had the same issues. He couldn't teleport and Blue knew it. 

And he was very deliberately standing in front of the door. 

Edge took back any concept he'd ever had of Blue being the sweet, innocent one.

Stretch was close to squirming and by now Edge's come was probably sliding down his femurs, only the dark fabric of his track pants kept the damp from showing, and Blue kept up the idle chatter, training with Alphys and recalibrating puzzles, and oh, he'd had an idea for adjusting one of them, what if instead of pressure plates they used--

"bro," Stretch finally burst out. His voice was higher than normal, cracking and desperate.

"Yes?" Blue asked, his eye lights starrily innocent. 

Stretch took a step forward, and with his back to Edge, he couldn't see what sign Stretch made, but whatever it was, it made Blue relent. He moved aside, swaying on his feet as Stretch fled past him through the door, slamming it behind him. 

Blue's smile shifted to something stern when he turned to Edge. "And you. The steam cleaner is in the closet."

He felt his own cheekbones heat a little. Well. Perhaps Red wasn't the only person who'd gotten an earful. "Of course. You can tell me about your ideas for your puzzles, if you like."

That earned him a real smile. "I would like. But first…?"

He gave the closet a pointed look and Edge nodded firmly. 

Fair play.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge is ready to go home. Mostly. Of course he's ready to go home. There's nothing he's going to miss in Underswap, not a thing.
> 
> He'll keep telling himself that until he believes it.

* * *

The machine really was almost finished. That little seed of anxiety that had sprouted in Red's soul since they had first seen the curls of smoke rising from it a week ago was finally shriveling, poisoned by their actual, physically visible success in rebuilding.

Well, his visible success, anyway. Stretch had yet to return from upstairs and considering the impromptu jam session Red had been treated to not that long ago, Red couldn't really say when he'd be back. Jam as in, someone was jamming their dick somewhere and Red had the dubious joy of listening to the payback from _Stretch's_ practical joke. 

S'ok. They had already been mostly finished when Red had sent Stretch upstairs for a voltage meter. He'd waited until Stretch had closed the basement door before he had pulled his own from his inventory and tested the wires, whistling while he worked. His level of surprise when Stretch didn't return immediately was, on a scale of one to ten, about a what the fuck ever.

Getting the boss fucking the honey bun had not been the plan when they'd come to Underswap; hell, Red wasn't sure he could really say what the plan _had_ been, not really. Most of his plans were of the 'fly by the seat of his pants' variety, possibly followed by a dash of 'covering up the ashes after everything burned around him'.

Look, he never said it was a good approach. There was a reason he didn't go by boss and make battle strategies and strut around in fucking high-heeled boots in the middle of an unending icy winter. 

For one, Red didn't have the legs for it. 

With a sigh, Red pulled off his glasses, rubbing at his sockets with his knuckles. Fuck, he was ready to be home. Not that he didn't like being in Underswap, he did; having the odds of getting shanked in the back at a balmy less than one percent did make napping less stressful. 

Underfell, though, that was home, every rotting, dusty corner of it, and he was with his bro on this one; they'd been away far, far too long. This little vacation was probably going to cost them more than Red really wanted to think about, in ways that he probably hadn't even guessed yet, but fuck it. Those problems were Pap's to think about. 

He firmly pushed aside the memory of a muffled shout of his brother's name coming from upstairs not that long ago; the less he knew about that shit, the better. 

The creak of the door opening interrupted his thoughts, the clunk of shoes on the stairs too heavy to be Blue's. Fucking finally, afternoon delight was supposed to mean a quickie not a fuck-a-thon.

"'bout time," Red grumbled, "what the fuck took so lo…seriously?" His face scrunched up, "you couldn't take a shower before you came back down?"

To Stretch's very minimal credit, aside from a faint flush at his cheekbones, he didn't _look_ freshly fucked. Unfortunately, he damn well smelled like someone had dropped a bottle of salsa on him at crotch-level. Dirty bastards.

"guess not. someone suggested i should come back just like this," Stretch smirked and flapped his arms as if to waft the stench of freshly used pussy in Red's direction. 

"feh, you're nasty," Red sputtered. He kept one arm over his nasal aperture and held the other out in a reluctant fist, accepting Stretch's tap. "since when do you obey orders?"

"when they're funny," Stretch leaned against the table and dropped something on it with a clunk, "here's the voltage meter."

"eh, i don't need it now," Red took no small amount of glee in telling him. Not that he'd sent Stretch upstairs to get the sense fucked out of him but…eh, no, he'd totally done that. If this was what the boss wanted, Red was absolutely gonna judge him for it. Didn't mean he wouldn't be a bro, though.

He knew the minute Stretch caught on; he ground his teeth so hard Red could practically taste the dust himself. "fuck you."

Red gave him a smirk. "not me. didn't sound like you minded making a wasted trip, anyway." 

If the boss was hoping to get a collar on this one, Red suspected it was going to be an uphill battle on a greased hill. When he didn't reply, Red glanced at him. Stretch was looking at the floor, flipping his lighter through his fingers and the shiny metal was wobbling unsteadily. Stretch was shaking a little and Red frowned.

"you okay, honey bun?"

The look Stretch gave him was sour enough that Red's magic cramped in sympathy. "i have a brother to worry about me and edge is already starting to stick in his nasal aperture in ways he shouldn't. if you start showing actual concern for me? i'm going to waterfall and chucking myself off their highest namesake."

"chill the fuck out, let's save the suicide pacts for our second date. c'mon, last test we have to run." There was a cloth-covered mound on the table and Red pulled the cloth off with a flourish generally reserved for magicians and waiters, "Tadaa!"

It was a little doll made of tape and scraps, its legs and arms rolled up paper. In place of a head, there was a shiny apple with only a small bite taken out of it. 

Stretch tsked. "what happened to him?"

"you took fucking forever getting fucked. i got hungry. johnny appleseed here is good enough to test organic material going through the portal."

"johnny appleseed? you call that a joke?" 

"fuck you, that's a great name," Red snorted. "i can peel it in my bones."

"i guess it does strike a cored in me." 

"he don't need nothing special. just apple-ain old name."

"doesn't look very ap-peel-ing."

"beauty is in the pie of the beholder and you used peel after i already did." 

"fair," Stretch grinned and held out his fist for a bump. "c'mon, let's get this done."

* * *

It didn't take long to steam-clean all the sofa cushions even with Edge's attention to detail. Edge left them off to allow them dry. He was sitting on the floor, idly reading when Blue returned from the kitchen with two mugs. He accepted the tea with a polite murmur of thanks.

"Oh, 'Water For Elephants'?" Blue exclaimed when he saw the book. "It’s one of my favorites."

Edge wouldn't go that far but the story had been engaging enough. "I may not finish it before I leave."

"Oh, take it with you!" Blue smiled. "I have another copy."

At least that spared him from having to tear out the ruined page. He held the book in his hands, feeling its soft weight. Abruptly, he couldn't wait to finish the book so that he and Blue could discuss it. In the midst of this…whatever this was he'd been tangled up in with Stretch, he'd forgotten that they'd come to Underswap to begin with so that he could spend time with Blue. His brother as he could have been, although Edge was learning that Blue and Red weren't as far apart as he'd first assumed.

"Thank you," Edge said, quietly sincere. 

Blue blinked in surprise, "You're welcome, but it’s just a book."

"No. I mean, thank you. For everything, for letting us stay here."

"Why wouldn’t we let you stay?" Blue asked, confused, and then shook his head. "No, I understand."

"Do you?" Could a Taleverse monster understand how much it meant that Blue would provide them not only with food and shelter but a place of safety? Could Edge even explain it to him, that as old as his memories were of sleeping in desperate snatches they were still as sharp as broken glass; in the dirty alleyways of Hotland and the damp caves of Waterfall, every sound a possible danger.

"I think I do," Blue said. There was…something in his voice and abruptly Edge remembered Stretch's nightmare. 

_What does a 'tale-verse monster have to fear?_

Blue laid a gentle hand over Edge's. He was still wearing his gloves, the leather worn soft. "Edge, it was wonderful having the two of you here. I know he'd never say it, but Papy enjoyed it, too."

"I’m sure he did," Edge said dryly, casting a glance at the drying cushions.

Faint cerulean dusted Blue's cheekbones, to his amusement. "Yes, well, you’re both welcome to come back, anytime."

"We will certainly be back to see you, Blue."

"Just me?"

"Your brother lives here, I doubt I could avoid him."

Blue nodded reluctantly. "I know I asked before but… _was_ everything okay last night?"

"Everything was fine," Edge said firmly. He was very familiar with nosy brothers and as much as he adored Blue, he wasn’t about to break whatever meager confidence Stretch had given him. 

Pretty, prickly Stretch....pretty Stretch, smiling faintly at him, smoking cigarettes with dim eye lights, trying to forget a nightmare that he swore he didn’t remember. No, that was a secret he would keep.

* * *

The machine was oddly soundless in use, only an electronic hum. The swirl of the portal was only slightly more impressive and Red had to give Sans a little credit. That suicidal motherfucker had been the first one of them to step through that swirling blackness and he'd had no real idea what he was going to find on the other side. No shortcut could quite compare to that first step into another universe, even one that was a cracked mirror of their own.

Next to him, Stretch tugged on the rope connected to the little dolly they'd built and it rolled back through the portal, Johnny Appleseed perched jauntily on top, as less-than-perfect as he'd always been.

“thank fuck," Red groaned. 

"yep," Stretch agreed. "looks like you and your bro will be able to go home and not dust while you're doing it."

"that is a plus," Red walked over and plucked the apple from its body, taking a bite. Through his mouthful, he garbled, "poor johnny, his parents didn't love him enough."

"In his case, redheaded stepchild was pretty literal," Stretch leaned against the table, flipping his lighter between his fingers. The tap of bone against metal was soft and rhythmic. "you gonna get your bro?"

Red gave him a narrow look. "if you want a quick smoke, you can go."

"nah," Stretch shrugged. "i've done enough stairs today. all that walking will make me lose my girlish figure."

"ah, honey bun, you'll always be the prettiest girl at the prom," Red leered and Stretch sighed, holding out his fist as Red walked past, tromping up the stairs. "i'm about ten points ahead of you, you know," Red called back down.

"i'm surprised you can count that high," Stretch called back and there was a pause.

"nine points," Red said, grudgingly, and the door closed behind him.

Stretch leaned against the table, still flicking his lighter through his fingers. The only sound was that soft clicking and the hum of the machine. He stood and stared at the swirling darkness for a long time.

* * *

Edge was still on the floor reading, his tea cooling on the table, when his brother burst in through the door. From the kitchen, Blue came out at a near run, his expression startled and worried until he saw it was only Red. 

"Must you be so loud?" Blue huffed.

"sorry, blueberry muffin," Red said, unrepentant.

Blue rolled his eye lights. "Wonderful, I've graduated to baked goods." 

"hey, I'm always cooking up good ones," Red leered. He sighed at both Blue and Edge's brutally unimpressed looks. "shoulda saved that for stretch. anyways, nothing blew up, boss, we're ready to go home."

Slowly, Edge closed his book, automatically stowing it into his inventory. A glance at Blue confirmed what he already knew he would see; words trembling on the verge of being said, an invitation to stay for dinner, at least, a diversion, some excuse for them to stay a little longer.

Edge didn’t allow him to begin. He stood and said, coolly, "Very well, brother, let's be on our way."

Blue recovered quickly enough, taking off his apron and laying it on the table. "…well, yes, let's see you two off. I'm sure you're eager to get home."

"fuck yes," Red agreed fervently. He didn't seem to notice Blue's subdued expression, the three of them making their way along the tamped down path of snow that led to the basement. It seemed to Edge that everything was sharper in that moment, the glitter of the snow in the artificial daylight, the crunch of their boots against it. 

By the door there was a can half-full of cigarette butts. Edge suspected if the snow ever melted there would be a hundred more scattered on the ground and left the thought there, not thinking at all of Stretch leaning against the house, smoking. 

It was harder to ignore when he went down the stairs and Stretch was right in front of them. He was slouched against the table, his lighter in his hand, seeming equally bored and untroubled. Edge didn't look too closely at that, not this time, allowing him his illusions. Stars knew he had his own, deliberately not noticing the hoodie zipped to his chin. Ignoring that Stretch still smelled faintly like him, surely still had his magic drying on his femurs. Pretty, prickly Stretch…beautiful Stretch…

"Thank you again for your hospitality," Edge said to Blue, who gave him an exuberant smile, only very slightly forced.

"Of course! I'd say anytime, but I think we'd all be happier if the machine stays in working order," Blue laughed, and again, the strain was hardly even noticeable. It was strange in its own way; Edge wasn't accustomed to anyone being unhappy to have him leaving. Strange, but not unpleasant.

"it should all be good for a while, bro," Stretch spoke up. He yawned lazily and somehow managed to slouch even more, "red and i made sure all the tab a's were stuck into the slot b's."

"yeah, i bet you know about sticking tabs in slots," Red muttered and Edge deliberately stepped on his foot with the toe of his boot. A silent _shut up_ and a warning in one; next time he'd use the heel. 

He forced himself to step up to Stretch, meeting his eye lights. There was nearly a foot of space between them, but the yawning gulf seemed wider. When Edge went through the portal it would be the space of a universe.

That was fine. Edge had never expected anything else.

Blue and Red were likely anticipating a kiss, looking for some physical indication of what had happened between them, but Edge was sick of being a tool for their amusement. If he wanted a kiss from Stretch it would be theirs alone. And he didn't. He'd had enough, more than he'd ever thought to want.

"See you around, snowflake," Edge said, quietly. He could almost feel Red's brow bone rising and ignored it, focused on the lopsided little smirk Stretch offered him. 

"take care of yourself, asshole," Stretch said easily. He held out a fist, brow bone raised and Edge sighed, tapping his own fist against it. And if he pressed their hands together a moment too long, his bare knuckles against Stretch's, well…that was his secret to keep.

He turned away without another word, already pulling his gloves from his inventory. He put them on along with his scarf, straightening his uniform automatically and when he stepped through the portal with his brother at his heels, he didn't look back.

How a portal to another universe could leave his equilibrium undisturbed but a short teleport from room to room would leave him gagging Edge didn’t know, but he certainly appreciated it. 

The machine room was as they'd left it, quiet and undisturbed. It was as to be expected; the machine they could trust to be safe enough. Red had made a very elaborate security system for the door and it hadn’t taken too many monsters getting dusted for others to leave well enough alone.

With the main house he hadn’t bothered. It held things, nothing greatly important in the grand scheme of things and if they’d locked up everything impenetrably it would have raised attention that they did not need. Clothes and books were replaceable enough; the machine was not.

Edge glanced down at his brother and the glee on Red's face was almost a living thing, wildly joyful. Edge cuffed him roughly on the back of the head but it didn't quite wipe it away.

"Brother?" Edge said calmly, deliberately. "If you ever call him that I’ll rip your skull off."

"you got it, boss," Red said with a smirk. "i'll stick with baked goods, weather patterns are all yours."

At the base of the stairs, Edge hesitated, bracing himself. They’ve been gone for a week; Undyne had known but not where they'd been. So did the dogs. It could be that everything was still in order or it could be chaos, Snowdin a dust-covered wreck. A thousand possibilities waiting for them.

Red nudged him. "c'mon, boss, we got this."

Edge nodded firmly. "Yes. We do."

And he walked up the stairs, leaving the past week behind him.

* * *

After the Fell brothers vanished from sight, Stretch hit a large red button on the machine, shutting it down. Blue waited, watched as his brother stood there, facing away from him. Waited as he sagged, waited as he finally sank down to sit on the floor, his lighter dangling from his fingers.

Quietly, Blue stepped over to him. He didn’t try to reassure him. No false platitudes or lying encouragement. Instead, he let his brother pull him into a rough hug, his back to Papy's front. 

Blue leaned back against him with a sigh, gripping his brother's forearms. His ulna had a small bump, hardly noticeable, where he’d broken it when they were children, and Blue brushed his fingers over it absently. They sat until the floor began to feel uncomfortably cold to Blue, which he knew meant Papy must be freezing.

He squirmed a little in his brother's arms, "Come on, you can smoke outside."

"you hate it when i smoke."

"I hate it when you do a lot of things that hurt you, brother," Blue pointed out. His brother hugged him a little harder.

"i’m sorry." But he didn’t promise to stop.

Blue never expected he would. "You don’t need to be sorry, Papy. I’ll always love you, no matter what."

Stretch nodded against his brother's shoulder and finally let him go, climbing to his feet with a groan. They went upstairs together and the moment the door closed behind him, Stretch lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. He leaned against the house and Blue joined him. He tapped his brother's arm and held out a hand, and with a greatly put upon expression, Stretch handed him another cigarette.

"one," Stretch grumbled. "you don't need to start any of my bad habits."

"After this week, I've earned it," Blue pointed out and Stretch only gave him the lighter. Blue lit it and took a quick drag, coughing back out a cloud of smoke. "Ugh."

"told you," Stretch said simply. He finished his own cigarette, allowing Blue another coughing inhale before stealing the cigarette back. 

“Quesadillas for dinner?” Blue asked hopefully. Testing the waters for dangers that he knew might be there, that he'd suspected from the beginning would arise but Papy had wanted this so much, he'd never shown so much interest in another person and…and…

“nah, bro, thanks anyway,” Stretch crouched to drop his butts into the can and from that angle, he couldn’t see the way Blue stiffened, his shoulders slumping. Only to raise his head in surprise when his brother continued, “do we still have any of those lasagna leftovers?”

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“tell you what, let’s just heat that up, save the effort for one night, and watch the napstatton special."

"You hate Napstatton."

"but i love you," Stretch rubbed his knuckles lightly over Blue's skull. "so come on before i change my mind."

Blue looked up at him, his eye lights bright and starry. "Besides, I bet you’ll love this one. It’s a murder-mystery but the detective solves everything before the police can get there and—"

"sounds great," Stretch said wryly, "a real rib tickler." He poked a finger into Blue's ribs and he squealed a helpless laugh.

"Stop! Stop!!" Blue slapped his hands away. "We may have to sit on the floor, though."

That gave his brother a pause. He stopped walking and gave Blue a bewildered look. "what’s wrong with the sofa?"

"The cushions are still drying. It needed a cleansing baptism to wash away its sins," Blue said dryly. 

Stretch winced but nothing more than that, Blue was pleased to see. It meant it was all right to discuss this, to tease, "sorry, bro. in my defense i tried to get him to go upstairs."

"Next time? Try harder. What’s the rule?

"no sex in the communal areas," Stretch sighed.

"Do I not follow that rule?"

"fuck, yes," Stretch said fervently, grimacing. Blue could only imagine his brother's reaction to walking in on him with his partner. If he was ever annoyed enough, he was going to make a point of seeing it in reality.

Stretch followed him to the door but before Blue could open it, Stretch laid a hand on it, holding it closed. Confused, Blue looked up at his brother's serious expression. "bro? they're home now."

"Yes?" Blue said, confused.

"so now you stop trying to push me and edge together, right? that was the deal."

Blue nodded agreeably. "That was the deal. I know."

His brother's expression didn't change. "promise me."

Blue only looked up at him, his eye lights wide and innocent, "Brother…"

"promise me," Stretch repeated, sharply, and Blue sighed, surrendering.

"I promise."

Stretch nodded slowly, "good."

He let Blue open the door, kicking off his shoes into a messy pile and detouring to the sofa. He must have deemed the cushions dry enough because he piled them back on and flopped down while Blue went to the kitchen. 

Blue took the foil-covered lasagna pan out of the refrigerator, studying it consideringly without seeing it. 

"Oh, yes, I promise, brother," Blue murmured. There would be no direct path at trying to get Edge and his brother together. 

But his brother wasn't the only one who knew how to take a short cut.

"the show is starting," Stretch called and Blue quickly put the pan in the oven, starting the timer.

"Coming," he called back and he went out to watch the show, dragging the blanket from the back of the sofa over them as he snuggled up next to his brother.

Plotting could wait until tomorrow.

-finis-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, that ends this arc.
> 
> Oh, but I don't think we're done here. Blue has plans, he does, this isn't over yet. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who came along for the ride, I seriously hope you enjoyed it. I'd love it if you dropped a comment to let me know and hey, if you want more, let me know that, too!
> 
> Until then!


End file.
